Declan snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Right? Fuck that bullshit.”
Everil held his tongue. He should have guessed the pair would get along.
“From what I’ve found, fae and human bonds have consequences.” Declan’s words took on a lecturing tone that always reminded Everil of the man’s mother. “But lacking the same foundations magically as a solely fae pairing isn’t one of them. Who can quantify a soul, for that matter?”
“I– What?” Bo tightened his grip on Everil’s elbow, wary now. “You’re talking like this has happened before.”
“Mother’s library,” Declan said with a shrug. Of course. It was always Aisling’s library. “She had reason to start collecting any information she could on bonds. I took the liberty of looking through them the past few days. There were pre-convergence accounts of fae-human bonds. Personal ones.”
“And?” Everil prompted.
“This is a complicated situation. I feel obligated to tell you both what I’ve found, but you know how closely Mother guards her information, Everil. It can’t go beyond the three of us, not unless we speak to her first.”
Everil studied Declan. The man was a trusted friend, whatever had passed between them. He was also the arbiter of this trial. A trial that included this conversation if Declan willed it so.
Test or no, Everil couldn’t risk ignorance.
“My word on it,” he said, with the ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t dare upset Aisling. She might set her cat on me.”
“Yeah, yes, same. My word on not narcing on your mom or her cat.”
“That creature is a menace.” But Declan met Everil’s smile with his own. “Very well. Most the accounts were similar. Humans entangled with fae, and fae stranding themselves in the human realm to be with their partners. The unusual bit, frequently mentioned, was a lifespan.”
“A– Wait. What?” Bo asked.
“A lifespan,” Declan repeated. “Fae die only at the hands of others or because they’ve tired of living. Usually the former.”
“We do not grow old,” Everil put in softly. “Not as humans do.”
“Generally true, aye.” Declan’s gaze on his was … what? Concerned? Expectant? “But not for those with a human bond. In the accounts, the mortals lived far longer than theywould have on their own. But in the end, both partners aged. There’s mentions of ‘a few hundred years.’ One pair reached four hundred, began gradually declining, and died after a handful of decades.”
Everil stilled. He had spent one hundred years grieving a single loss. What was a century when you existed outside of time? He had loved Lawrence. He had lost him. There was nothing to move onto.No graying hair or fading health to threaten his mourning.
It made fae cruel, the loss of time. Cruel to each other, ending lives over festering squabbles. To humans, whom they called pests or pets, pretty cut flowers gathered with the intention of watching them fade.
And yet…
Aging? A lifespan?
Surely, it was worth it. For Bo’s sake. The man would have the years Everil had never been able to offer Lawrence.
He should be pleased. But the air tasted bitter.
“I see,” he said, and no more than that.
“Does this have anything to do with the trial?” Bo asked, his fingers tightening a little on Everil’s arm. “Or is it just a fun way to start? ‘Congrats on your boyfriend, by the way, you’re gonna die’?”
“Information has value here,” Declan replied, frowning. To Everil’s relief, he didn’t sound angry. He had the right to be. “Perhaps in the trials, perhaps not. This is as close to privacy as we may have for quite some time. It’s information that, in the wrong hands, could be used against both of you. There’s value in knowing that the starched sorts are wrong to say humans cannot be a valid bond.”
“Yeah?” Bo’s tone remained skeptical, edging on hostile.
Everil needed to say something. Bo had asked to be informed of any context he missed. It all felt very distant at the moment.
“Bo.” Quiet. Perhaps too detached. Everil looked at the human, remembering his kiss, his rough praise. “Declan’s mother trades in information and debt. Her knowledge of what others only wish to know has allowed her to rise to unusual heights for a banshee. In human terms, Declan has searched the family vaults on our behalf and offered us an heirloom.”
“I…” Bo drew the word out, considering. “My bad. I shouldn’t have jumpeddown your throat.”
