- Chapter 3 -
Outings

Secrets kept from dearest friends,
To keep them safe from troubled times.
The truth revealed and made amends,
To pays to have some faith sometimes.

“Geez, Bec, what are you trying to do, take off her head?”  Ren’s voice held a slight rebuke as he walked over and held out a hand for Meg to take.  He’d been watching Beccah spar with the Awakening Sapphire Prince with a growing frown as the Watcher had pressed the girl harder and harder.

The trio had left Ren’s office and headed to one of the many dojo style training rooms located in the compound beneath Adion’s Fall.  This room was thirty feet by thirty feet, gym mats covering both the floor and all four walls to reduce the likelihood of serious injury.  Along two of the walls were racks of rattan weapons used in training.  Though they were soft enough not to draw blood, they were still quite capable of breaking bones and producing some very livid bruises.    

For the last hour Beccah had mercilessly put Meg through a series of combat exercises in three different forms of martial arts.  Meg had been a trooper thus far and, despite her natural aversion to fighting and her own lack of anything even remotely resembling fighting skill, she had acquitted herself rather well.  Beccah was arguably the most proficient hand-to-hand combat expert in the entire Watcher origination, having been sent by Vel to train all over the world for the majority of her life.  As such, she was the best for training the new Sapphire for any manner of combat trial in which she might find herself.  However, even for Ren, there was a line.

“I’m alright,” the auburn haired beauty responded with a weak smile.  She was tired, exhausted to be honest, and knew that come morning she was going to have a good many bruises to show for her evening of training.  However, she could not help the slight feeling of exhilaration.  Though she was far from anything nearing good, she was getting better.  In the last hour especially she had been able to counter Beccah’s advances and drive her back.  Her blocks and defensive posture was improving, thank the light.  But, even she, with her seemingly endless patience, was getting a little weary of ending up on her bum every two minutes.

Ren gave her a smile, but turned to Bec and it became a frown.  “What’s your deal?”

Beccah just shrugged.  “I’m not trying to hurt her, Ren.  However, I’m also not going to be the one who has to explain to Lord Tearlin why she’s injured when he gets back.  In case you’ve forgotten, the Unseelie are still out there, and they’d love nothing more than to get their hands on Meg.  I’m not going to let that happen.  If she has to deal with a couple of bruises because of it, fine.  That’s better than being helpless when the Unseelie come knocking.”

There was challenge and unrepentance in her unreadable gray eyes.  It wasn’t just the death of Seamus the year before that had changed her.  Beccah had seen many she called friend die in this unending battle against the Unseelie.  And it wasn’t the troubling disappearance of Lord Velorum, who had been like a father to her after the death of her own parents.  No, Ren was pretty sure that there was one cause and driving force behind her new fellness, and his name was Vercin.  Once Brynmore of the Watchers, he was her elder brother turned traitor and favored of both Amethyst and Vermillion, though both were dead.  Now he was the Commander of the Scarlet Order, the Unseelie’s Mortal servants.  

During the summer, Beccah had tried to take him on herself, for revenge or to see what he knew about Velorum, no one knew.  The end result was her capture and nearly her death, save for the fact that her friends had arrived to rescue her in the nick of time.  Even without Princes Vermillion and Amethyst, Maison Rouge was deadly, and Z’iel no less their foe than the other two Princes had been.  The Opal Prince of the Light Fae had let them escape; there was no other explanation for how any of them had escaped alive.  It was a troubling thought, and one that soured Beccah any time she gave it contemplation.  

Ren gave her a dour look and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Training is one thing, Bec, and I agree with you that she can use the work.  I’m just saying that maybe you can ease up a bit and not push so hard.  She’s not going to master Choi Kwang Do over night, you know.”

“Hello… standing right here,” Meg quipped with a hint of irritation in her voice.  She hated it when they argued about her as if she weren’t even in the room.  She gave Ren a tolerant smile.

“I know you’re desperate to be my protector and all, but I can handle myself.  If I have a problem with Beccah, I’ll let her know.  She’s trying to help, and I appreciate it, even despite the bruises and near concussions.”

The lightness in her voice belied the truth underneath.  Meg wasn’t frustrated with the Watcher; she was frustrated with herself.  This summer had only served to add fuel to her irritation.  Here she was, apparently the Sapphire Prince, and even the most newly Awakened was more magically apt than she.  With Tear and Vel missing, they all needed her… and she felt useless to them.  No matter how badly she wanted it, she could not Awaken fully, could not call fourth the wells of magic within her, nor use more than the most rudimentary aspects of her Second Sight.  She felt like a failure.

Yet, she kept at it, and kept trying.  Tearlin had once told her that all things come in their own time and that she shouldn’t push.  Many Fae, she knew, drove themselves into madness by trying to access too much of their magical power before they were ready.  She didn’t want that to happen either.  But, a little something to make her feel like less of a lead weight on the team would have been nice too.  So, she kept trying, kept hoping.  She knew she was improving, albeit slowly.

It hadn’t been easy for her, these last months.  It seemed as if she had only just gotten used to the idea of her new world, finally felt at home in her own skin, when everything had changed again.  She had felt like she had found a missing part of herself when she had met Tearlin, and now he was gone.  Change had set in upon her again, and she had had to adapt.  Without the love and friendship of people like Lucian, Devlin, Beccah, and Ren, she wasn’t sure she would have been truly able to handle it all.  As long as she had people like them in her life, she knew that she would keep going, keep believing that tomorrow could be better than today, and that Light and friendship could best any evil the world had to throw at her.  It got her through the loneliest of nights.

Ren studied her with those intense hazel eyes of his, which were so often laughing and full of mischievous light.  Presently, they were very weighty.  Much had come to pass between them since the spring, most of which still confused him.  She was strong willed, dedicated, and brilliant.  Pretty much everything he was not.  Ren found himself feeling very protective of Meg, not only because she was a Prince, but because she was one of the few truly good people he knew.  She was kind, gentle, and giving, always with a smile or word of solace for those in need.  She gave and never took, always listened, and was dauntless once she put her mind to a thing.  

Head out of the clouds, Ren, he chided himself.  She’s a Prince and way out of your league.  Besides, she likes her boys blonde.

Beccah sighed and stretched.  “Maybe that’s enough for one evening, huh?  I’m sure it’s getting late, and we should really head upstairs to keep an eye on the rabble.”

A roguish grin lit Ren’s face, “Mmmm… Friday night.  There are always a few cuties around on a Friday night.”

Meg laughed.  “Is that all you think about, master Erendir?”

“Pretty much,” he replied unashamed as he tossed an arm over her shoulder.  One look from Beccah told him he’d lose the arm if he tried the same on her.  Laughing, the trio made a stop to change, and then up to the main floor of the Fall.

<center>~~*†*~~</center>

He sat bent over one of the many tomes that were piled on his desk and stacked beside it.  Papers and notes written in at least a dozen different languages, maps, and even star charts littered the usually obsessively tidy surface of the desk and floor.  Though he was difficult to tell with him bent over like that, still as if carved from granite, he would have been tall if he stood, six foot at least.  His hair was short and stylishly cut, a dark honey blonde that shined even in the dim light of his well appointed office.  His features were classic and delicate, his eyes a dark oceanic blue.  The only thing that marred the image of studious perfection was the smudge of blue ink on his nose.  

Avarin Lark was oblivious to the world around him, completely lost and consumed by the research which had become his driving force and obsession over the last six months.  He had been teaching Professor O’Leary’s classes since the pervious fall when the quiet man had taken an extended leave of absence.  Most of the faculty believed he was still grieving over the death of his wife.  A rare few knew that the professor had had a great deal of trouble with his teenaged daughter, Rain, and believed he was getting her some much needed family counseling, as she had stopped attending the local high school.  Avarin, however, knew the truth.  

Though he was quiet, kind, and unassuming, the twenty year old graduate student was, in fact, of the Light Fae.  More than that, he was the Scion of Light.  It was his duty to serve on the Council of Princes when Tearlin and Echo were elsewhere, and to stand as a guardian against the rise of Avalon.  A weighty duty, to be the right hand of Life and Light.  Yet, with a shy smile and an easy grace, Avarin took it all in stride and was well loved by everyone.  He was more like Tear than anyone else, with his love of books and dislike of anything that even remotely resembled Faery politics.  With Tear gone, and Echo out looking for him with the Avatar of Darkness, it was up to him to try and keep everyone together.  Never an easy task, even under the very best of conditions.

So intent was he upon his research, which he hoped would lead him to a way to locate the missing Lord of Life, that he didn’t hear the soft footfalls of the striking figure that leaned casually in his open doorway.

“We have got to get you out of here, Avarin.  It’s nine pm on a Friday night, and you’re still bent over your books.  I swear, I feel like I haven’t seen you in months when you weren’t pouring over that stuff!”  The lyrical girl’s voice held soft notes of amusement, teasing, and genuine warm concern.  

Avarin looked up and a pleased smile played across his lips.  “Chelle!  I didn’t hear you come in.”  

Michelle Kirin was unlike any other girl he knew. She had long dark blonde hair that fell in spiraling cascades of perfect ringlet curls that would have made Shirley Temple rage with envy.  Her skin was creamy porcelain, her features soft and beautifully appointed.  The deep and brilliantly intelligent eyes that gazed out of her angelic face were an intriguing blue green with hints of gold at their centers.  She could almost always be found with a secretive smile on her lips, as if she were privy to a secret yet undiscovered by the rest of the world.  At a mere five feet tall, she was a pixie of a girl, though any who made the mistake of taking her slight stature to mean she was frail would find themselves gravely mistaken.  Chelle might possibly be one of the strongest and most level headed people the Light Fae knew… and he knew a lot of people.  A child prodigy and mathematical genius, she was only sixteen and yet in her second year of college.  Though she was only just in her teens, she had a weight and maturity about her that made her seem so very much older.  Few realized the quiet and easy going girl was so young, and she was constantly turning down the advances of upperclassmen.  

For all that, the superior intellect, the natural beauty, she had a gentility of spirit that made her a favorite.  She little seemed to notice the fact, however.  She seemed to prefer to keep to herself, and Avarin knew that he was one of her few friends.  The adoration and respect of her peers seemed to wash over and off of her like water off a duck’s back.  She didn’t seek or need their praise or approval, but was always graceful about it.  Most girls would have let the popularity go to their heads, but not Michelle.  She was truly unique, and she was his friend.

He had first met her during her initial tour of the prestigious university over a year ago.  Youngest of four in an average lower middle class family, she was ambitious and determined to see the fulfillment of all of her dreams.  He’d never heard her speak much about them, save for the fact that they were all very, very close.  It was as if she kept them to herself alone, refusing to let anyone near them.  But then, that was so very Chelle.  As long as he had known her, she had always been very and fiercely protective of the things she loved.  From the moment they had met, he had known there was something special about her, and they had quickly become the very best of friends.  

Avarin’s oceanic eyes strayed to the clock on his desk.  She was right, after nine already.  How long had he been sitting here?  Since three in the afternoon, at least.  He felt her appraising eyes upon him and gave her a sheepish grin.  She met it with a frown.

“Avarin, what’s going on with you, huh?  If I don’t bring you lunch and dinner, I think you don’t even bother to eat.  And you’re always here, always hunched over one of those books of yours.  You’re never home anymore, and I can’t even remember the last time I saw you at ease or laughing.  Yet, every time I offer to help you, you shut down and shut me out.”  She ran a perfectly sculpted hand through her unruly curls, a sigh escaping her.  “You’re my best friend, Avarin… and I don’t know what to do for you.  I want to help, but I can’t do that when you never let me in.”

He felt a deep pang of guilt tare at his heart.  How could she understand that it wasn’t about her?  Chelle was a Mortal, he was Faery and part of a world he could never share with her, lest he change her life forever in ways in which he had no right.  He had never expected to grow so close to her, and thus never anticipated this sort of trial for their friendship.  The insightful Light Fae knew it must really hurt her feelings to think that he didn’t trust her and was keeping secrets.  He wanted nothing more than to tell her everything, unburden his soul and have someone to share his frustrations with.  Chelle would have had some plan of action; some words of wisdom that would have made everything make sense.  She always had about everything else.  But not this time.  This was the one thing he could not share with her, the one thing he could never share.

The slight girl watched the wash of emotions over the too handsome face of her best friend and cursed herself for the pain she saw there.  Whatever it was, he wanted to tell her, she knew, but felt he couldn’t.  And being ever respectful of his personal space, as he was of hers, she never pushed.  Or almost never, anyway.  She couldn’t help the worry she felt for him, but felt bad that she had come across as accusatory when she hadn’t meant to be.  Besides, this conversation was not the reason she had come to see him.

Chelle brushed off her frown with ease and replaced it with a challenging grin.  “Come on, you.  When was the last time you got outta this office?  I think what you need is a night out.”

His dark eyes widened.  “Well… I… I mean…”

She crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him to his feet, willing or no.  “We haven’t been out in forever, and I feel like dancing.  You, my bonny boy, are going to take me.  I know this great club across town called ‘Adion’s Fall’.  Trust me, you’ll love it!”

Before he could even get out a word of proper protest, she was grabbing his black corduroy jacket and pulling him out the door.  He couldn’t help but grin.  Chelle was a force of nature, and he was glad to have her.  Maybe a night to clear his head was just what he needed, and he’d been missing her lately.  Then her words hit him.

“Adion’s Fall?”  He quarried with concern.  He knew a lot of people who frequented the place… people who might not realize that Chelle knew nothing about the Faery and their world.  

She tossed him a grin back over her shoulder.  “Yup.  Meg and Dev, they’re in your European Myths and Legends class with me remember, are friends of mine who go there all the time.  They’ve been trying to get me to come out with them for months, but I’m not really into the club scene.  I thought we could go and surprise them.”

Avarin caught up with her and reclaimed his hand.  They walked side by side down the mostly empty hallway and toward the front doors.  Being a T.A. he was permitted to park his car not far from the entrance.  A lucky thing, too, as a chill fall rain would have made walking a very wet affair.  In a moment the pair were making their way across town in his red Saab 9 3.  

For a while, both were quiet and left to their own thoughts.  It was one of the things that that each loved most about the other; no uncomfortable silences.  Prone to introspection and reflectiveness, both could be lost in their own mental meanderings, and yet be together.  However, after a good five minutes, Chelle spoke up.  

“You know, Avarin,” she began while looking out her side window.  She loved the way the rain made the lights glow like little jewels on the wet pavement, “I really am here for you.  I know you’ve been going through something you don’t think you can tell me lately, and I know you feel bad for keeping secrets.  I just want you to understand that I’m always here to listen, no matter how… out there… things might seem.”

As she turned to look at him, Avarin got the oddest sense from her.  Chelle was a perceptive person, more so than most.  And in that blue green gaze of hers he felt almost as if she were looking through him, to the heart of him.  She was trying to tell him something more than her words said, and he almost felt a pull to release the floodgates of everything he had withheld these last months, had withheld the length of their friendship.  Yet, he caught himself at the last moment and contented himself with a sad smile.

“Chelle, you are my best friend.  I trust you more than just about anyone else I know.  You know that.”

“But…”  She prodded.

“But,” he continued, “There are some things in life that we all have to face alone.  Things that, even if we did share them, would only then become the burden of one more person.  Two do not always make some loads lighter.  Sometimes, two just means it costs more in the end.   I promise you, I am fine and healthy and in no danger of anything, at least nothing more than anyone else in this world.  I swear I would tell you if I thought it would help.  As it is, I can’t.  Please… forgive me.”

The curly haired blonde reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.  Her smile was soft, understanding.  “Should you need me… for anything at all…” She quoted her favorite movie.

He smiled back, once more grateful that she was such a wonderful person.  “I’ll call.  On that, you have my word of honor.”

Chelle’s smile deepened into something secretive, veiled.  “I know your type… of fellow,” she added cryptically, “Always keeps their word.  Like a law of nature, almost.  Interesting, that.”

Avarin felt his heart skip a beat, but couldn’t fathom why, only that he knew there was more to what she hinted at than a simple tease.  She often did that to him, and to date, he’d never quite figured out how or why.  Simply one more part to the mystery of the girl who was his best friend outside of the Faery world.

<center>~~*†*~~</center>

They pulled up to the curb in front of the Nightclub called Adion’s Fall and Avarin tossed his keys to the valet.  The place was located in the not-so-popular side of town, situated among dark warehouses and industrial centers.  Many of the buildings were old brick bearing dates of founding ranging from the late eighteen hundreds to the mid nineteenth.  The building which housed the club was impressive.  A towering red brick building, it may have once been a church or playhouse.  It looked as if time had never touched it, though an air of antiquity clung to it like a fog, giving it a slightly eerie feel.  Despite the Victorian building, the sign for the club was in brushed aluminum, as were the recessed entry way doors.  

Standing out front was a roguishly charming youth with moss green eyes and reddish brown hair spiked and kept short.  Avarin knew him to be Aidan, a Watcher who was close friends with many of the newly Awakened who called the Fall something akin to home.  He was a good kid, if a little self effacing, and Avarin had always liked him.  

“Hey, Avarin,” he called.  “Haven’t seen you here in…” his smile faltered when he saw the look Avarin was giving him, and his eyes strayed to the girl with him.  Short, blonde, beautiful… but definitely not Fae.  Shit. Time to try and make a recovery.  “Haven’t seen you in the area much since I quit school,” he finished lamely, a flush of embarrassment coloring his freckled cheeks.

Avarin gave the lad a tolerant smile, hoping that Michelle would not have picked up on the slip.  She was so sharp it was almost more than he could dare to hope that she could miss anything.  She had a meticulous mind, which would serve her very well someday when she applied to the FBI, her dream job.  As she didn’t react, however, he sensed he may have dodged the bullet this once.

“We miss you ‘round campus, Mr. Faulkner,” he said shaking the Watcher’s hand.  “You’re a good student when you apply yourself.  You should think about coming back.”

Adain blushed and ran an embarrassed hand through his hair.  “Yeah… I’ll think about it.”  To draw attention away from himself, he turned it to the lovely girl at the side of the Light Fae.  “And who is this stunning beauty,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

Chelle grinned and gave Avarin a wink, while he just rolled his eyes.  “This is my good friend Michelle Kirin.  She is a matchless student and way out of your league.”  He grinned to take the possible sting out of his words, letting Aidan know he was only joking.

He sighed dramatically.  “Alas, poor scholarly aptitude strikes me down again.”  All three laughed and he waved them in.  

As soon as they opened the doors a wash of techno music assaulted their senses.  It was Friday night, and by this time, the club was packed and jumping.  It attracted a particular crowd, the Fall.  Hair colors of every hue and cut abounded, leather, vinyl, and enough spokes and chains to outfit a prison could be seen bedecking the entranced dancers.  At the back of the colossal club stood a bar, well staffed and busy as always.  The club proper was a cavernous space with a huge circular dance floor and lights of every color.  At the front of the main floor stood a stage for when concerts were sometimes held.  Black metal scaffolding ascended to the second level of lounges and private nooks.  The great columned walls were painted in murals of fanciful scenes, while the awe-inspiring domed ceiling sported a painting of a sunlit sky and star spangled night at war.  Adion’s Fall was a feast for the senses.

Michelle moved through the press of people as if they did not exist, somehow seeming to be able to part them like water before her.  He’d seen her do it before.  She radiated such an air of peace and stillness, of focus and purpose that somehow, people just seemed to pick up on it.  He simply followed behind her, not for the fist time wishing that he could bring her into his world.  Mortal she might be, but she had a grace to match any of the Faery.  She looked all about; seeking the friendly faces of those few she called friends.  He kicked himself that he hadn’t remembered that she was friends with Meg and Devlin.  The thought gave him pause.  All Light Fae.  Everyone he could remember seeing her in close association with were of the Light Fae.  Yet, he knew that she, herself, was not Faery.  He would have sensed it a long time ago.  Still, it was an odd sort of coincidence in a world that had few coincidences.  

Finally, under the awning of the second floor and far removed to the right he saw what she saw; Meg, Ren, and Beccah, all sitting at a dimly lit table laughing.  A Prince, the Half Fae, and a Watcher.  Little did the dancers about them realize the power held in just those people alone.  He shook his head with a wry smile.  Chelle sure knew how to pick her friends.  

Meg must have sensed their approach, for she looked over just then and a welcoming smile lit her pretty face.  She rose and closed the distance between them, taking Chelle in a warm hug.

“You came!”  She exclaimed.  “You actually came.  I was beginning to lose hope that we’d ever get you to come out and have fun with us,” she teased.

Michelle laughed with good humor.  “Yeah, well… Too Tall here needed to get out and I figured this might be just the chance of scenery to shake him out of his funk.”  She looked back and gave him a wink to take the sting out of her words.

The auburn haired girl just smiled, her pure sapphire eyes meeting the oceanic blue of Avarin’s.  She didn’t know him well, save for the fact that he seemed to know what was going on and was trusted by Tearlin.  Lucian spoke well of him, explaining that Avarin had been Awake for about a decade now and had always proven to be a steadfast and loyal friend to the Light Fae.  For herself, Meg had personally worked with him on trying to uncover who may have taken the Avatars of Life and Death, and where.  He was quiet, studious, and kind.  In short, she liked him.

“Good to see you outside of class, Avarin,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.  As always, it was hard to pretend that they were only normal folk.  She always found herself carrying on conversations on two levels when people unaware of the faery were around.  It was odd.

He smiled back and gave her a slight bow, as proper to a Prince of the Light Fae, even in Chelle’s presence.  “It is always a pleasure to see you, Meg.”  He gave Chelle a little nudge.  “And I am not in a funk.  I simply have a great deal of research to complete for my… dissertation.”  The lie did not sit well with him, but he knew he had no other choice.    Meg’s sympathetic look made him feel marginally better.  They all lived double lives these days.  It was never easy to hide the truth from those they loved, but necessary never the less.

Chelle seemed unaware of the tension around her and focused her attention on the pair still sitting at Meg’s table.  “And who is that?  Imagine you keeping such a cutie all to yourself!”  Ren was looking their way with his most charming little grin perched on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Meg said, “Come on, I’ll introduce you.  Cute he may be, but more than trouble, I assure you.”  She drew the newcomers over to the table where Beccah and Ren were happily people watching.

Ren was dressed in a simple white tee which only served to accentuate his well toned physique, and a pair of blue jeans.  Casual as he appeared, he exuded an air of self assured mastery.  His short brown hair was as unruly as ever, and served to play up his roguish nature very well.  Beccah was Beccah.  Black tee, olive drab cargos, and her shoulder length brow hair pulled back into a strict ponytail, she was as no nonsense as it got.  For all that, however, she seemed at ease enough, and even had a smile for Avarin and his friend.

“May I introduce Beccah and Ren?  They run the Fall, as it were.  And these are my friends Avarin and Chelle.  Chelle is in one of my classes, and also a good friend of Devlin’s.”  She sent out a mental, ‘she knows nothing of the faery.  Don’t slip up,’ message, knowing they’d be more careful about what they said then.  

Ever the dashing one, Ren stood and gave the blonde a sweeping bow, rising to take her hand and gently kiss the back of it.  “It is an honor, milady.  I am, now and ever, at your humble service.”  Only his wink told her that he was playing.

Chelle grinned, and never one to be caught off guard replied with a curtsy of perfect grace.  “It is I who am humbled, my Lord.  The pleasure and honor are mine.”

It could have been that she simply played along with his courtly speech, but there was something about the emphasis that she put on the ‘my Lord’ that sent a slight chill down Ren’s spine.  She met and held his gaze, hers that striking blue green and gold, his warm hazel.  She did not flinch or look away, and there was a hint of amusement behind her playful smile.   For a long moment he just stared at her, everything else forgotten.  Avarin’s unobtrusive clearing of his throat broke them reverie of the moment, and the world resumed.

“I think we’ve met before,” Avarin said with a wry smile.  “We have a few mutual friends who move in the same art circles, I think.”

“Ah yes, I thought you looked familiar.  Good to see you again.”  Ren had to work very hard to stifle his impending laughter.  All this play acting was hilarious.  

Chelle and Avarin took seats by Meg, the trio now grown to a pentet.  They all talked lightly about politics, sports, and the local art scene.  Chelle proved herself to be a quick study and in no time at all was laughing and jesting with the others as if she had known them forever.  She had an easy way about her, and the others had to catch themselves more than once from accidentally saying something that would cause her to question them.

It was getting late and the club scene was in full swing.  For those with the eye to see it, the population was a healthy mix of both Mortal and faery revelers.  In this venue, all differences were swept away and they became united and bound by the magic of music and dance.  Lights flashed, the beat of industrial techno sounded like the heartbeat of the collective assembly.  Ritualistic almost, sensual and seductive of a certainty, this was the beauty of the meeting of the worlds.

At the onset of a particularly rhythmic song, Ren jumped up and grabbed Meg’s hand, completely ignoring her protests.  “Come on, you!  Give us a dance, would ya?”  She laughed, and though still protesting, let him drag her away anyway.  She gave Chelle a wink, and did not fail to see Beccah roll her eyes.  

A content quiet settled over those remaining at the out-of-the-way table.  Beccah didn’t seem much in the mood to talk, more interested in people watching.  Unknown to Chelle, Bec couldn’t help it.  She was always on the look-out for Unseelie, or those there to cause trouble in the club that had served as her home for the last six years.  Things had been pretty quiet in the last six months since the boys had vanished during the battle that had spelled the fall of the Unseelie High Lords.  Still, Beccah was not foolish enough to believe it would remain quiet forever, and so her guard never relaxed.  

Avarin was about to ask Chelle if she wanted to join Meg and Ren on the dance floor when he noticed a familiar figure winding her way through the crowd.  It was Devlin, looking calm and cheerful as ever.  His sharp eyes noted that she was pulling someone along behind her, someone with whom he was unfamiliar.  The youth had a riot of multicolored dark hair, though his manner of dress was casual enough.  Sharp features, overly bright eyes; Faery.  And yet…  He shuddered.  There was something very out of place with her new friend that only grew stronger the closer the new pair came.  Avarin found himself unnerved; for he could not, for the life of him, determine what kind of fae this boy might be.

Devlin, however, was the picture of grace.  Her long dark hair was left free to fall about her shapely shoulders, the natural white streaks in the front framing her honey skinned face.   She had the classic loveliness that made so many fall in love with Asian beauty, enhanced by the sense of control and light that radiated from her.  She smiled warmly when she noticed Chelle and Avarin had joined her usual friends this evening.

“Hey stranger,” she teased Avarin as she leaned over to take Chelle in a hug.  “Haven’t seen you outside of class in ages!  I assume we have Chelle to thank for your presence?”  

He chuckled.  “Yeah, well, you know how she gets when she has her mind set to a thing.  I learned long ago that arguing with her is pretty much pointless.”

The blonde gave him a playful punch on the arm.  “Well, if you weren’t such a book worm, I wouldn’t have to drag you out by your ears just to get a little bit of your time!”

Dev studied the playful pair for a moment, trying to discern if there was anything more to their friendship since the last time she had seen them together.  She knew they were the very best of friends, but often enough that grew into something more.  They had a casual way together, an ease and openness that only came with those who trusted one another completely.  Yet, there was none of the tension and angst that often accompanied a growing romance.  No, she was pretty sure that this was only true friendship, and for that she was glad.  Avarin needed people outside of the faery realm to count on.  He had a lot on his plate right now, and she often felt bad for him.  There was also the fact that Chelle was a doll, and Dev cared about the Mortal girl very much.  She was surprised how easily they had all become friends, but very glad of it as well.  

“So who’s the quiet one you’ve got in tow,” the slight girl quarried, a curious light in her blue green eyes.  She leaned over to gaze at him around Devlin’s shoulder.  “We don’t bite… often.”  Her smile was winning.

Devlin blushed.  “Geez, I’m sorry.  Let me introduce you to Sol.  He’s uhhh…” she stumbled a moment.  How could she explain this with Chelle sitting there?  Avarin was watching her intently, eyes demanding some kind of explanation.  Bec wore her usual frown when meeting someone new, and Chelle looked expectant.  

Sole saved her.  “I’m new in town and Devlin here was kind enough to offer to show me around a bit.”  His crooked smile was very attractive on his sculpted face.  He reached out a hand to shake Chelle’s.  “Pleased to meet you…”

“Michelle.”  She shook his hand and introduced everyone.  “This is my best friend Avarin Lark, and the lovely lady with the brown hair sitting ever so quietly is Beccah.  Meg and Ren are on the dance floor, and you already know Devlin.”

“A pleasure,” Sol responded with a polite smile.  As she met his glance, she could have sworn that his eyes changed from light brown to pale green.  

Avarin had a look of forced ease written upon his creamy features, his brows drawn ever so slightly together.  “New to town, eh?  You look like a fellow who has quite a story to him.  Where are you from… originally.”  

Sol met the Light Fae’s eyes, unflinching.  “Wish I knew.”

Avarin frowned, and turned in askance to Devlin.  She grinned sheepishly.

“He umm… seems to be having a little bout of memory loss.  I couldn’t think of anywhere else to bring him, since he’s…”  She paled and looked over at Chelle, who wore an amused and curious look on her pixie perfect face.  She had almost said too much, and Michelle was like to have too many questions already.  Dev cursed herself.

Michelle just laughed musically, rolling her eyes at the group of them.  “Oh geez, just come out and say it, Dev.  He’s bloody Fae but you haven’t the slightest idea what sort.”

Though the club was alive with people and the ever present blearing music, a profound silence and stillness settled upon the group as if they were alone in the world and someone had just dropped a bomb on them.  In a way, Chelle had.  Avarin was the first to recover.

“Wh… what did you just say?”  His blood ran like ice water in his veins, his heart thudding.  It was impossible that she had just said what he thought she said.

Chelle shrugged.  “I said, Sol here is Faery… but I can’t tell what kind.  The rest of you are easy.  It’s like a nest of Light Fae around here.”  And she smiled sweetly.

For a very long moment everyone just stared at her, except for Beccah who looked highly amused.  Sol looked confused, and Devlin looked as if she wanted to melt through the floor.  Avarin stared at his best friend as if she had suddenly turned into a venomous snake, or like he didn’t know her.  He swallowed a few times, trying to assimilate the implications of her seemingly innoxious statement.

“You… you can see the Faery?  You’ve known… all this time… and never said a word?”  His voice was soft, his eyes unfathomably dark.  He sounded very hurt.

Chelle frowned, going slightly defensive.  “Yup.  I’ve always been able to tell you people from normal old humans.”

“You’ve always known… and never said a word?” Anger and betrayal seeped into his normally kind and gentle voice.

Her blue green eyes flashed and she stared back at him without a hint of remorse.  “Hello pot, call from kettle on line one!”  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “I see how much you trust me, keeping such a secret all this time, Avarin.  Don’t’ you dare get judgmental on me when you’ve been keeping your own secrets!”

Meg and Ren chose that moment to return, laughing and smiling, until they immediately caught the tension in the group.  He turned to her with a raised eyebrow.  “Looks like we picked the wrong moment to come back.  Fancy another go?”

She shushed him and looked the strain on the faces she knew so well, and noticed the new arrival.  Her hand went to her mouth in a little ‘oh’ of surprise as the nature of the stress became clear to her.  She looked in askance at Devlin who simply shook her head and nodded toward where Avarin and Chelle were still glaring at one another.

“She knows about the Faery, always has,” he answered Meg’s unspoken question.  He was still as if carved from stone.

“She… you do?”  Meg asked in confusion, looking at Chelle with a plea for understanding in her sapphire gaze.

Chelle sighed.  “Look, I didn’t say anything because I respect your right to privacy, your right to have your secrets.  I felt that if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me.  I trust</i. you, trust your judgments.  I trusted that if you didn’t tell me, there was a good reason for it, and I would have faith in that fact.”  She regarded Avarin, still angry, but mostly looking for him to understand.  “I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve wronged you, but the choice was mine to make, just as the choice to keep this truth from me was yours.”  

For a long moment, the group was held in tableau while Avarin gave thought to her words.  Finally, he sighed and moved toward her, taking her in a hug.  “I’m sorry.  I should have told you a long time ago.  I was just… just afraid, of changing your world in a way in which I had no right.  Innocence is bliss sometimes, and I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

She smiled softly and stood on her tip toes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.  “It’s alright, Avi.  ‘To everything there is a season, and a purpose, under Heaven.’  You know, I know, everything is out in the open now.  We’ll figure this thing out just like we do anything else.”

He kissed her back, lightly on the brow, radiant that she was the wonderful person that she was.  A wry smile pulled at his lips.  “You don’t have any other bombshells to drop on me, do you?”

She laughed.  “Not that I can think of, no.  I’ll be sure to tell you, though, if I can think of any.”

Beccah’s practical voice cut through the moment of reconciliation.  “Not to rain on this little parade or anything, but perhaps we should all take this somewhere else?  This isn’t exactly the place to be talking about this sort of thing so openly, you know.”

Avarin blushed, and Ren laughed.  “Got to hand it to her, Bec sure has a sense of timing, doesn’t she?”

The Watcher woman just glared at him and led the group to the secret compound located beneath the club.