26. Yarrow

The lights swimming beneath the glass floor seem brighter today. Any of them could be Yarrow's memory, plucked in two parts by the summer queen. The original memory and the taking of it.

Yarrow hasn't missed the memory in the past ten years. He isn't sure he wants it back.

"Remind me of the protocol," Folly says, nervous at Yarrow's elbow. He's adorable as always in his starry robe. Thankfully Hummingbird makes her wares sturdy. Yarrow was able to scrub most of the blood out.

"We walk in, stop at the bridge, and bow," Yarrow repeats. "You can do this."

No need to warn Folly about watching his words. He comes from a world just as treacherous as this one, and Yarrow trusts Folly can handle himself. If Folly's nervous anyway, Yarrow's happy to repeat the instructions as many times as necessary.

They don't have long to wait before their escort appears.

"Welcome back, Yarrow and the Great Folarius," Nevander says. "I'm pleased to see your safe return."

High fae can't lie, so that must be the truth. Maybe Nevander's face is just stuck in that expressionless mask. He should see the apothecary about that.

Folly shifts his weight awkwardly. "Um, you can just call me Folly. Anyway, Yarrow's quest is complete, so we'd like to speak to the queen now."

Nevander glances at Yarrow, who confirms, "Moriath is dead."

That part's true. Folly's words were technically a lie—because Yarrow didn't complete his quest. Folly killed Moriath instead. Yarrow puts his odds at getting that past Haelwen very, very low.

"Then your inconvenient curse is broken," Nevander says. "Yarrow may enter, but the Great Folly must wait here."

"Not fucking happening," Yarrow snaps.

Folly steps forward, leaving a soothing hand on Yarrow's arm. "I humbly propose that Her Majesty will want to speak with me if you tell her this." Folly's chin lifts, all trace of nervousness gone. "I know why she gave me this eye."

Yarrow and Nevander both freeze, stunned.

"I believe she will," Nevander says, recovering his composure. "Follow me."

Past the entry veil, the throne room is brilliant. Morning cascades through the glass above, illuminating the goldwood bridge. The rippling moat. The queen crowned in flowers, her hair as blue as the cloudless sky.

A quiet melancholy softens Yarrow's thoughts. Elladar's beauty rings hollow beneath his steps. This place was never meant for him.

No, more precisely, Yarrow was never meant for Elladar. Why should he strive to join a court that doesn't want him?

Yarrow and Folly stop at the bridge to bow, while Nevander crosses to the throne. He murmurs something in Haelwen's ear. From across the bridge, Yarrow doesn't see her expression change. But when Nevander steps aside, Haelwen gestures. All other guards disperse into the distant trees.

Haelwen lifts her dove-gray skirt and descends from the throne. Power shivers through the air, brushing past Yarrow's throat. The back of his neck prickles with defensiveness against a more powerful creature. Swallowing hard, he tries to imitate Folly's confident sense of performance.

The air settles. Yarrow's discomfort subsides, leaving only anger.

"Welcome to Elladar, human," Haelwen says, with surprising warmth. "What is your name?"

Folly sweeps a low, performative bow. "My name is Folly, Your Majesty."

Haelwen smiles. "And why do you think I gave you that eye, Folly?"

"Because seventeen years ago, you took a memory in exchange." A quick glance at Yarrow betrays Folly's nerves, but his voice remains steady. "How old is Tansy?"

Haelwen flinches.

Folly takes a deep breath. "That night, instead of the fireflies, I saw you, didn't I? I saw you exchanging your child for Tansy. So you took my memory to keep it a secret."

Stunned admiration swells in Yarrow's heart, overpowering his anger. Of course, Folly figured it out. He's watchful and clever and perfect, and Yarrow can't doubt his conclusion. This would explain everything.

"In this, my old friend Crocus and I are the same," Haelwen says softly. "We both wished to protect our sons from the summer court."

The queen looks suddenly, shockingly real. A single strand of blue hair falls in front of her right ear, and one of the blossoms in her crown is bent. There's a sadness in her eyes, as if Haelwen too hears the hollowness of Elladar. Yarrow feels a strange kinship with her.

He wishes he didn't.

"The difference is that Crocus could leave," Haelwen continues. "I am the summer queen, and I belong to my court. So instead, I had to hide my son away."

"That's heartwarming, Your Majesty." Yarrow doesn't want to feel kinship with Haelwen. He wants to stay angry. "You took my only memory of my father, then told me to kill him."

Haelwen doesn't flinch at that. "Your father was a murderous monster."

"I'm not mad he's dead," Yarrow growls. "I'm mad you tricked me. Had you asked plainly, I might have agreed."

"I do not rule Elladar on might-haves," Haelwen says serenely.

Typical fae. "Why did you really need me to kill him? Nevander or someone could have done it." In sober retrospect, the fact that Moriath had wandered into the human realm was a thin excuse.

Haelwen smiles. "Who better than a child to break his parent's heart?"

Fuckingtypical fae. They can never resist their twisted notions of poetic destiny.

"You have succeeded, regardless," Haelwen says. "Which means I owe you your reward."

This is poetic too, Yarrow supposes. He takes Folly's hand, already reaching for his. "You owe Folly a reward, not me. He's the one who killed Moriath."

Yarrow never imagined abandoning his dream would be so easy.

It feels amazing.

"Folly and I had no agreement," Haelwen points out, smiling. "But you have done me a service, human. What reward might you want?"

Yarrow's more than happy to leave this negotiation to his human. Folly's far more likely to get what he wants from the summer queen. He could change his eye back. He could win a minor glamour, to hide it at will.

They haven't discussed possible rewards, because Yarrow doesn't want to sway Folly's decision. Even if he quietly hopes for one reward above all others.

Folly lifts his chin, both eyes sparkling. "I propose two trades, Your Majesty. For slaying the shapestealer, I want the right of permanent residence in the summer realm." He lifts one finger, then a second. "My next offer is my continued silence about what I saw seventeen years ago. For that, I want Yarrow to have permanent residence in the human realm."

Heart soaring, Yarrow stifles a laugh. Of course, his clever little human isn't satisfied with just one reward. Yarrow would only have thought to ask for Folly's residence in the fae realm. Folly thought to give them both choices.

"Your offer is welcome," Haelwen says, golden eyes sharpening. "The latter reward is beyond my power. I have no dominion over the human realm. But I can cast a spell that will delay Yarrow's realm-sickness for thirteen years."

That's long enough to make a decision about homes and lifemarks. But Folly counters anyway. "Toss in Yarrow's memory of his father, and we have a deal."

Haelwen smiles. "We have a deal."

Half a day later, Yarrow stands once again on the goldwood wharf. The Pyran River dazzles nearby, the empty stalls wave their masks and hats, and Folly moans into Yarrow's ravenous kiss. Yarrow doesn't pull away until his neck aches from craning down.

"You are incredible," Yarrow says, cupping Folly's face.

Folly grins up at him. "I really am. And so are you."

A sturdy glass bottle holds Yarrow's only childhood memory of Moriath. He's tucked the bottle in his carryhold for now, where it can wait until he's ready to remember it. Not today. Perhaps not for years. But someday he will, and he has that choice thanks to Folly.

"We're both incredible." Yarrow plants another kiss on Folly's forehead. "I think we could be even more incredible together. What do you say we spend a year or two trying that out?"

Grin widening, Folly steps out of Yarrow's grasp. "I say, where do you want to start?" He spins around, waving at the empty stalls and rustling forest. "The fae realm isn't as scary as I thought it would be. I wouldn't mind living here."

"It's very scary. You're just braver than you realize." Yarrow shoves down a sudden, strange reluctance. "We can live here, then."

Folly whirls to face him. He doesn't need a magic eye to read Yarrow perfectly. "Do you want to live in the human realm? That's a yes or no question, don't try to dodge it."

"I don't know," Yarrow admits. A sigh melts through his shoulders. "I've never belonged in Summer. Maybe that would be different with you. Maybe I'd feel the same in your realm."

Folly leans against him. The small weight is a reassuring anchor. All the more so because Yarrow's never asked for reassurance before. "If we can't decide, maybe we should flip a coin."

Yarrow loops an arm around Folly's waist. "Your mysterious magical coin?"

"My mysterious magical coin," Folly confirms, and unbuttons his coin purse.

The coin is ancient. Powerful. Forged in another realm. So valuable that Nevander refused to accept it.

Yarrow can think of no better use for a spark of fortune than choosing their new home.

"Call it," Folly says.

Yarrow's hand wanders beneath Folly's starry robe. "Ravens, we live in the human realm. Dragons, we live in the summer realm."

Folly squirms, then steps away from the physical distraction. Frowning in concentration, he balances the heavy coin over his thumb. "All right, magic coin. Where should we live?"

His thumb flicks, and the coin spins upwards. The golden disc shines in ascension, arcing up against the clear summer sky. It winks brighter at its zenith before it tumbles?—

The coin vanishes.

Startled, Yarrow scans around, but nothing hits the wooden wharf. "Was that some clever charlatan's trick?"

"Gods' meager mercy." Folly kicks the wood, pouting. "No, the only charlatan here is that stupid coin! Ugh. I'll try again with a normal coin."

A normal coin will give them a proper answer. One side or the other.

But maybe Yarrow and Folly don't need a proper answer.

"Wait," Yarrow says, staring into the emptiness where the coin disappeared. "I think that was the right answer. I've got an idea."

Folly blinks. His pout softens into wonder. "I think I do too. But let's stop by the human realm first. I have some business to settle."

It's a crazy idea. It may not work. But one thing is certain—wherever he goes with Folly is exactly where Yarrow belongs.