And now, the moment y'all have been waiting for: The Autumn Equinox!

Those of y'all who are interested in music, the song that I based the Autumn Equinox ritual off of is something you might enjoy. The sound of the music and the chanting were what I was listening to while I was working on this chapter, so if y'all are interested, the song is "In Maidjan" by Heilung.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Unseelie Court went unnaturally quiet as Nezumi guided Shion to the arena where the Unseelie King stood. The four Knights sneered at him as he brushed past; Shion stared at the spot between Nezumi's shoulder blades, lowering his head just enough to give off the illusion of an enchanted sacrifice blind to his own destruction.

The King stood at the center of what looked like a silver dance floor. It was composed of several pieces—fit together like some sort of strange puzzle, each engraved with markings identical to the ones across the King's shoulder blades and down his spine. In the center, Shion saw ornate manacles attached to short, thin silver chains.

The layers of the Unseelie King's intricate black ensemble blew in an unnatural breeze that shouldn't have existed beneath the mountains. The longest layer, a heavy cloak embroidered with scarlet runes, dragged three feet behind him. Shion trained his eyes on his bare collar bones, let his gaze stray to the looping mound of dark braids held in place by a songbird's skull, let himself look anywhere and everywhere except into those deadly black eyes.

Nezumi dropped to one knee with a grimace, and Shion needed no prompting to follow his example.

The Unseelie King waved a dismissal at Nezumi, a slow gesture of his hand as if he were moving through syrup. Nezumi hesitated. The King fixed him with a stern, warning glance and gestured again, but Nezumi continued to linger at Shion's side.

"Go away," the Unseelie King hissed at last. "Your presence is not needed for this part."

Fury and shame flashed across Nezumi's face, bleeding together into something terrible. His hand twitched, dropping to his side, where Shion saw his silver knife strapped to his thigh. How Shion hadn't noticed it before this moment, he wasn't certain. His stomach dropped at the anticipation of violence, the hatred that burned in Nezumi's eyes as he stared the Unseelie King down.

The Unseelie King cocked his hip and stared down at Nezumi with a bemused smile on his lips. "Oh, what's this? Do you wish to participate in the sacrifice?" His eyes darted down to the hilt of Nezumi's blade.

Nezumi's gloved palm slipped off the handle of the blade and hung loose at his side.

The Unseelie King clicked his tongue. "As fascinating as it would be to watch you slaughter one of the humans you're clearly so fond of, I'm afraid the honor of sacrificing our guest falls to me." He waved his hand again, back toward the spot in the front of the crowd where the Unseelie Knights stood. "Go and stay alongside your fellow Knights. Make sure you watch closely."

A disgusting, sinister smile stretched across his face. A low murmur came from the crowd—the surrounding Folk couldn't hear the conversation, but they responded to their King's amusement by chattering with laughter. Shion's spine straightened, a chill fluttering over the bare skin of his face and the backs of his hands.

All at once, Nezumi seemed to relax. An expression of understanding and resignation fell across his face, his silver eyes dulling down to a luminous thunderstorm gray. He tipped his head toward the Unseelie King and then turned to face Shion.

The Unseelie King turned toward the chains on the ground—and Nezumi stepped toward Shion. He pressed his lips against the curve of Shion's jaw, his hand grasping his hip and holding him close for a moment, speaking against his skin so Shion was the only one to hear his words. "I owe you a debt," he muttered. "There's no other way out of this. You just have to say the right thing."

His lips brushing against Shion's throat made him shiver. He opened his mouth to speak, but Nezumi shook his head and murmured for Shion to flinch as if Nezumi had bitten him to keep up appearances in front of the Court. Shion responded in kind, wincing and hissing as if Nezumi's perfect white teeth had sunk into his shoulder. The Unseelie King glanced over his shoulder at the sound, but Nezumi had already stepped away from Shion and descending the stone steps to stand beside the other Knights.

The Unseelie King lifted a tattooed finger to his green-painted lips and tapped them lightly. The tint bled into his skin as if he'd been sucking on green apple Jolly Ranchers, and Shion wondered if the color would spread across the top of his tongue when he opened his mouth to speak. He chose to focus on that rather than risk glancing up into the King's dark eyes and collapse head-first back into enchantment.

Two faeries dressed in vibrant red cloth drifted across the silver dance floor, and took Shion by the wrists. He resisted the urge to wrench away from them as they brought him to the silver cuffs attached to the chains. Their bare hands brought the silver links up and locked them around Shion's thin wrists. The silver cuffs were etched with strange symbols, and the chain rattled as the red-cloaked creatures dropped Shion's arms and bled back into the golden-tinted darkness.

The Unseelie King drifted around the silver floor, and Shion felt his chest clench with terror. He took a deep breath and looked out at the assortment of Folk. An ocean of monstrous faces stared back at him, thousands of eyes glimmering in the light, burning with hunger. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at the ground, focusing on the pathways carved into the silver ground.

The King lifted a hand, and the Unseelie Court went deathly quiet.

Shion kept his gaze lowered. It must have been the right decision because none of the Folk hissed at him to lift his head or reached out to grasp at him. The Unseelie King's heavy boots tacked against the ground as he walked in front of Shion and address the crowd. Shion lifted his head just enough to stare at the bare spot between the Unseelie King's wings, a patch of his tattooed skin peeking through. How easy it would be to jam a knife between them and punch all the way through to his dead, blackened heart.

The Unseelie King lifted his hand and drifted it through the air. Brilliant silver flames flared around the edges of the dome, casting odd shadows. Crackling twigs echoed through the vacant air, the cold wind trickling Shion's hair and turning the tips of his ears red.

The Unseelie King began speaking, his loud voice booming through the cavern, thrumming through Shion's bones like a deadly promise. "On this night, we, the Unseelie Court, have gathered to offer a sacrifice to the old gods. Tonight, we offer mortal blood in exchange for another year of providence. We, the masters of blood and rot, surrender a host to the Deadly Ones in exchange for prosperity and victory against those who would stand against us."

Somewhere, from a spot in the shadows, a drum began to bang rhythmically.

The Unseelie Court shrieked and roared as one. Whoops and hollers of excitement burst from the assembled crowd. It sent a chill down Shion's spine, coupled with the realization that every single creature staring back at him wanted to sink their teeth into his flesh, drink his blood, and leave nothing but scraps behind.

The Unseelie King lifted his other arm, the long sleeve of his robe fluttering in front of Shion's face so he couldn't see the monsters leering back at him. He let out a shuddering breath, the edges of his vision prickling with gray stars. His hands trembled at his sides, the chains rattling. He tried to force them still, lest the King heard and realized he wasn't still under his enchantment—but the King was focused on the Unseelie Court, shouting and cheering as he lifted both his arms high into the air.

He opened his mouth and began chanting. Shion didn't understand the language, didn't understand the words, but the rumbling sound of the Unseelie King's voice rocked through his bones and rooted him in place.

The Unseelie Court echoed his chant. It trembled through the earth, blending with the rhythmic thumping of the drum, their hundreds of voices calling out to an unseen force and pleading with it for another year of victory in exchange for a human life. The drums bounced against the stones, the vines hanging from the ceiling trembling with the force of their calls, mingled with strange screams and shrieks from the Folk crammed far in the back of the dome, forced to merely watch the festivities and dream of participating.

Nezumi didn't take up their chant. His sharp silver eyes glared up through the shadows, locking with Shion's face. He looked stern and unnaturally beautiful, a gemstone amidst a sea of teeth and claws. Shion's heart pounded, blood rushing in his ears and drowning out the sounds of the Unseelie Court chanting for his demise.

The Unseelie King turned his back to the crowd and drifted behind Shion. He lifted his hand up and traced it over the panes of Shion's shoulders, trailing them down the length of his back. The fabric of the short cloak prevented those horrible hands from pressing into his spine, but Shion tensed all the same beneath the King's touch. He tried to force the hitch in his throat to still, his heart rabbiting in his rib cage.

The Unseelie King's fingers hooked on the back of the cloak and ripped it away. A rush of cold burst along his back, and Shion let out a startled gasp. He caged it behind his teeth, desperation forcing his screams down. The Unseelie King didn't respond to Shion's reaction to the cold; he dropped the cloak to the ground and kicked it aside, waving his hand with a flourish over Shion's head and displaying him for the crowd to see.

Their chanting increased in volume, so loud it blended together into a single roar that melted beneath the pounding of the drums, echoing through the mountain like a heartbeat. Perhaps it was intended to signify the beating of the old gods' hearts, Shion's sacrifice the bloodshed of the ancient faeries who'd fallen at the hands of human hunters. He scanned the crowd for familiar faces, but panic blinded him to anything except the monsters grinning at him with their dripping fangs and hungry eyes.

Shion looked around in a panic. It didn't matter if the Unseelie King noticed him now. Shion was shackled to the silver floor beneath them, and even if he revealed that he'd broken free from their enchantment, the Unseelie Court would no doubt thrive on his terror. He couldn't escape them, no matter how much he might have desired to do so, and in a matter of moments, the Unseelie King would rip him to shreds and scatter him across the stones.

Shion looked desperately down at Nezumi.

I owe you a debt.

But what the hell did Nezumi want him to do?

The cavern was filled to the brim with bloodthirsty creatures. It was massive. The exits were no doubt being guarded by creatures of immeasurable size and strength. Did Nezumi honestly believe he might be able to get Shion out of here, with his death so close? Panic spread through his veins like ice, misery rattling through him. Shion's eyes burned with tears as a cold realization came over him.

No one was coming to rescue him. Nezumi's promises of a rescue had been a pipe dream. Nezumi might have desired to rescue him—but even he wasn't strong enough to stand against the might of the Unseelie Court. He wasn't powerful enough to stop the Unseelie King from slaughtering Shion and throwing his carcass to the monsters, laughing as they ripped his skin to shreds and devoured his intestines.

He tried to swallow his terror and focus. Nezumi wouldn't have reminded him of the debt if he didn't intend to pay it back in full.

Nezumi intended to pay him back for his rescue—but how?

Ask me for anything.

"Nezumi." Shion's voice was soft, the name spilling out of his mouth like water. In his panic, he couldn't see anything except a blurred figure in black standing at the front of the crowd, looking up at him with strange silver eyes. He didn't need to say the words loud enough to be heard, just clearly enough for Nezumi to read his lips and make good on his promise.

"Nezumi, I want—," Shion said again, his voice lost beneath the chanting of the Unseelie Court. The palms of the King's hands brushed against his back as he drifted by once again, ice cold even through the fabric of his ceremonial garb. In a matter of moments, he was going to rip Shion's throat out with his nails and leave him sprawled on the stones.

There was no time left.

Shion lifted his head, looked Nezumi dead in the eyes, and said, as softly as he could, "Nezumi, I want to go home."

To Be Continued...