Faeling

Merritt went to his meeting in a daze. He knew he was incredibly attractive and while it didn’t surprise him that Oz had wanted to paint him, the painting itself did. Not only was it a near picture-perfect representation, but in it he was smiling. It wasn’t the business-polite smile or the knee-weakening smile he gave to women—it was a real smile. Merritt hadn’t ever seen that expression on his own face—not in the mirror, not in photos with old girlfriends... Never. Maybe Oz had just taken artistic liberties and given him the most attractive expression possible, but it looked so right. He was both shaken and enthralled by the image. Merritt felt almost as if he was a modern Dorian Gray.

He has asked to buy it immediately, of course. Oz said it wasn’t finished but he promised to work out payment at a later date. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to burn it or hang it in his living room.

It didn’t matter either way, Merritt promised himself as he pushed the image of his own smiling face out of his mind. This was an important meeting and he was just barely on time. Merritt walked into Stella Luna and tried to avert his eyes from the table where he’d had dinner with Rhiannon less than twenty-four hours ago. Instead, he allowed the host to bring him to a private room.

Inside, there was only one other person—Merritt’s father, Elias Peters, youngest member of the fae Council.

“Merritt, it’s almost seven-thirty,” his father reproached. “What would you have done if Cid Grey and Cid Rune had arrived before you?!” His blue eyes flashed darkly.

Merritt clenched his jaw and announced calmly, “I’ve found her.”

His father’s brow furrowed. “You what?” Merritt simply nodded. His father sat back slowly in his chair and allowed a smile to cross his thin lips. “That’s wonderful news, son.”

Merritt held back a frown. His father only called him ‘son’ when he wanted something or Merritt was unknowingly falling into place in his schemes. Merritt tried to push on his father’s self-satisfaction, his confidence, to see if he would let anything slip. With anyone else it would have been almost effortless, but one of his father’s skills was to minimize the skill of those around him. It was incredibly frustrating.

After another silent minute or so, the other two Council members appeared. Merritt rose and greeted Cid Kiernan Grey, Rhiannon’s uncle, and Cid Tobias Rune, the eldest fae on the Council. Merritt wasn’t entirely certain why he was at this meeting, but occasionally members of the Council would meet with new up-and-comers, which Merritt knew full-well that he was. If one of the Council were to die tomorrow, he knew that his name would be on the list of successors—and most likely it would be near the top.

This didn’t seem like a normal meeting though. The usually-cheerful Kiernan Grey was looking dour and even Cid Rune was looking rather grim (which wasn’t entirely unusual). Merritt glanced at his father and wondered why, if this wasn’t a simple assessment of new possible Council options, his father hadn’t said anything. A doubt and what in other people might be an anxiety was growing in Merritt’s mind. He racked his mind for something the Council would need him for... Surely this wasn’t about his dismissing Rhiannon? Cid Grey loved his only niece very much but for all his jovial appearance—red cheeks and big belly included—he was wildly intelligent and rather cunning. Merritt doubted that Kiernan Grey would bring the Council, especially Cid Rune of all people, into a simple lovers’ spat. A waiter came over and Cid Rune ordered a bottle of wine and, surprisingly, also ordered dinners for each of them. Apparently Cid Tobias Rune not only had all the power, but he liked to use it, even in small matters—none of them would ever argue with him on anything.

Finally, the waiter left with a bright smile and a slight bow. Cid Grey turned towards Merritt with a frown. Merritt stared at him calmly from across the table, waiting for him to speak.

“Merritt, I’m under the impression that you ended your relationship with my niece last night—here, in fact, I believe,” he said with a severe expression.

“Yessir, I did.” He knew better than to say anything else unless asked. Be calm. Be direct. Most of all, be honest, Merritt told himself.

Cid Grey’s fleshy mouth twisted unpleasantly. “And you brought her home afterwards?”

Merritt was taken-aback but didn’t show it. “No, sir, she was very angry with me and took a taxi home instead.” He desperately wanted to prod Cid Grey’s insecurities but with both his father and Cid Rune here, it would be absolutely impossible even if his skill was much stronger.

“I assume you know that Amaranta was burned to the ground last night—around the time you left here.” Merritt was startled to hear Cid Tobias Rune’s gravelly voice cut in.

“Yes, I did hear about it, sir,” Merritt responded politely and affecting sadness continued, “I know how much she loved that flower shop. I was sorry to hear it.”

Kiernan Grey gave out a short huff of disbelief but Cid Rune only laughed. He laughed harder than Merritt had ever seen anyone of his age laugh—he had turned 160 last year but appeared about 85 by human standards. By human or fae reckoning, he was not a young man. He finished laughing and let out a few short, dry coughs.

“Yes, you’re very sorry, we’re all very sorry,” he croaked. Merritt wasn’t sure how to respond. Cid Grey was still glowering at him and Merritt didn’t dare glance at his father lest he look like a child seeking affirmation or guidance. “Well, Merritt, why don’t you tell us why you left the lovely Rhiannon?”

Merritt racked his brain, quickly going over his options and quickly realizing there was nothing to do but tell the truth. None of the men here could smell lies as a skill, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still know when someone lied to their faces. “My prophesy,” he admitted with a small, conceding smile. “My words are, ‘Win her and you win the world’.”

Cid Rune smirked roguishly at him. “And your girl wasn’t Rhiannon Grey, eh?”

He was unnerved by the grin, but Merritt forced a disappointed look onto his face. “No, sir, Rhiannon is not the woman in my prophesy.”

Kiernan Grey stood suddenly, looking furious. He opened his mouth to shout at Merritt when Cid Rune pointed at him. “Sit. Down.” Merritt could tell by the blood leaving Cid Grey’s face that his emotions were being pushed... They were being pushed very forcefully. Merritt had only seen it happen once before—a very powerful fae could push emotions so hard that the recipient of the push couldn’t feel anything at all.

For once, Merritt couldn’t control his expression and his mouth fell open in disbelief. He knew that all the Council members were very powerful (and thus influential) fae, but he never knew that Cid Rune was this powerful—usually only one fae in a generation was anywhere near this formidable. Cid Grey slumped back into his chair, his face both pale and blank. It was as though he wasn’t even a person.

Slowly collecting himself, Merritt swallowed and turned back to Cid Grey, pressing a vague smile onto his face. Before he could think of anything to say, his father spoke. “Rhiannon is in the hospital, Merritt.”

“Is she alright? I heard that no one was hurt in the fire...” Merritt trailed off as his father shook his head.

“She’s sick, son.” Merritt’s brow furrowed. Son? But fae don’t get... Sick.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“You know what it means,” Cid Rune said from next to Merritt. Kiernan Grey let out a breath as the more powerful fae finally let him out of his control. “Someone is trying to kill Rhiannon.”