The Autumn Prince

41. The Sound of Wheels

The cake was both beautiful and delicious and only habit stopped me from going back for thirds, but I couldn't compliment the artist personally. Apparently, Finn had convinced Chloris, the bean tighe who had worked with the previous caretaker, to bake it for us, but she still wouldn't set foot inside Meridian.

Rachel sat in a state of semi-shock for the first half hour, after she finished cussing out first Katherine and then me. Jogging buddies apparently received a free pass, even though Becca had been in on it. Gradually, however, and with the strategic application of confections and alcohol, her mood improved and she began to enjoy the party.

Meg was in high spirits too, an amazing transformation compared to what I'd previously seen, so I kept my distance from her to avoid upsetting her. It was Rachel's day, and I didn't want to spoil it.

"How many spankings are you due this year?" I overheard Amy asking Rachel.

"Fuck around and find out," Rachel replied with a hint of jovial menace.

"She's twenty-three," Katherine said, "just a few months younger than Thomas."

Becca looked disappointed. "We missed his?"

"June," I said. "Long gone, I'm afraid."

"We'll get him next time around," Rachel told her, still pretending to be angry with me. "I'm highly motivated to make sure he never forgets it."

"You said you turned nineteen in April, right?" Katherine asked, and Becca nodded. "Then no more birthdays for a while. We'll have to make the most of this one," She sipped at the bottle of beer in her hand and glanced down the table where the Fae were congregated. "Unless one of you can give us an excuse."

Meg shook her head. "I haven't celebrated a birthday in—" her eyes slipped out of focus for a second. "At least twenty years."

"Twenty?" Rachel said. "Like hell, you don't look any older than Becca."

Finn sat at the far end, slouched so far down in her seat that I could only see her eyes and her feet that were propped up on the table. "You're what now, Meg? A hundred and thirty?"

"One hundred thirty-six."

Rachel dropped her fork and gaped at her. "You're not serious!"

"It is not uncommon, Rachel," Miss Gold said airily. "Finola, Margaret, and I are all quite old by your standards, and there are others older still, yet some will not see two score years in their natural life. There is no fixed span of days for any species, but you will find that most fall within what you would consider to be normal."

Finn stretched and finally sat up in her chair. "You're better off not making assumptions. Tom's father is a good example. More than three hundred years old, but in his world he'd have died of old age centuries ago."

"Being here makes him more powerful?" I asked. Even the thought of it was appalling.

"In a sense," Finn replied. "It's not typical for one of his kind, but at some point he learned how to feed on humans."

"Feed—"

"She speaks of the will, Thomas," Miss Gold clarified before I could finish asking. "He does not feast on the flesh of men."

"How do you eat free will?"

"You don't," Finn said, and looked up at Miss Gold. Neither spoke, but something passed between them. Then Finn turned faced me. "You already know that the Veil is shaped by the will." Several of us nodded and she continued. "Some Fae can hijack another person's will and use it to strengthen their personal reality. It reinforces their place in this world, makes them partly immune to nature."