Holly Black - Tithe

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TITHE
A MODERN FAERIE TALE
Holly Black
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Acknowledgments
Simon & Schuster
New York London Toronto Sydney Singapore
SIMON & SCHUSTER
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are
used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's
imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
Copyright © 2002 by Holly Black All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or
in part in any form.
Book design by Paul Zakris
The text for this book is set in Meridien.
Printed in the United States of America
CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress. ISBN 0-689-84924-9
For my little sister Heidi
"And pleasant is the faerie land
But an eerie tale to tell,
Ay at the end of seven years
We pay a tithe to Hell;
I am sae fair and fu o flesh,
I'm feard it be mysel."
—"Young Tam Lin"
Prologue
Contents - Next
"And malt does more than Milton
can To justify
God's ways to man."
—A. E. Housman,
"Terence, This Is Stupid
Stuff"
Kaye took another drag on her cigarette
and dropped it into her mother's beer
bottle. She figured that would be a good
test for how drunk Ellen was—see if she
would swallow a butt whole.
They were up on stage still, Ellen and
Lloyd and the rest of Stepping Razor. It
had been a bad set and watching them
break down the equipment, she could
see that they knew it. It didn't really
matter, the sound system was loud and
scratchy and everyone had kept drinking
and smoking and shouting so she
doubted the manager minded. There had
even been a little dancing.
The bartender leered at her again and
offered her a drink "on the house."
"Milk," Kaye smirked, brushing back her
ragged, blond hair and pocketing a
couple of matchbooks when his back
was turned.
Then her mother was next to her, taking
a deep swallow of the beer before
spitting it all over the counter.
Kaye couldn't help the wicked laughter
that escaped her lips. Her mother looked
at her in disbelief.
"Go help load up the car," Ellen said,
voice hoarse from singing. She was
smoothing damp hair back from her face.
Her lipstick was rubbed off the inside of
her lips but still clung to the edges of her
mouth, smudged a little. She looked
tired.
Kaye slid off the counter and leapt up
onto the stage in one easy move. Lloyd
glared at her as she started to pick up
the stuff randomly, so she stuck to what
was her mother's. His eyes were glazed.
"Hey kid, got any money on you?"
Kaye shrugged and took out a ten-dollar
bill. She had more, and he probably
knew it—she'd come straight from
Chow Fat's. Delivering Chinese food
might pay crap, but it still paid better
than being in a band.
He took the money and ambled off to
the bar, probably to get some beer to
go.
Kaye picked up Ellen's stuff and started
hauling it through the crowd. People
mostly got out of her way. The cool
autumn air outside the bar was a
welcome relief, even stinking as it was
with iron and exhaust fumes and the
subways. The city always smelled like
metal to Kaye.
It only took her a few minutes to get the
car loaded up. She went back inside,
intent on getting her mother in the car
before someone smashed the window
and stole the equipment. You couldn't
leave anything in a car in Philly. The last
time Ellen's car had been broken into,
they'd done it for a secondhand coat and
a bag of towels.
The girl checking IDs at the door took a
long look at her this time but didn't say
anything. It was late anyway, almost last
call. Ellen was still at the bar, smoking a
cigarette and drinking something stronger
than beer. Lloyd was talking to a guy
with long, dark hair. The man looked out
of place in the bar, too well dressed or
something, but Lloyd had an arm slung
over the man's shoulder. She caught a
flash of the man's eyes. Cat-yellow,
reflecting in the dark bar. Kaye shivered.
But then, Kaye saw odd things
sometimes. She'd learned to ignore them.
"Car's loaded," Kaye told her mother.
Ellen nodded, barely listening. "Can I
have a cigarette, honey?"
Kaye fished the pack out of her
army-surplus satchel and took out two,
handing one to her mother and lighting
the other.
Her mother bent close, the smell of
whiskey and beer and sweat as familiar
as any perfume to Kaye. "Cigarette
kiss," her mother said in that goofy way
that was embarrassing and sweet at the
same time, touching the tip of her
cigarette to the red tip of Kaye's and
breathing in deeply. Two sucks of smoke
and it flared to life.
"Ready to go home?" Lloyd asked, and
Kaye almost jumped. It wasn't that she
hadn't known he was there; it was the
sound of his voice. It sounded velvety, a
shade off of sleazy. Not normal asshole
Lloyd voice. Not at all.
Ellen didn't seem to notice anything. She
swallowed what was left of her drink.
"Sure."
A moment later, Lloyd lifted his arm as
though he were going to punch Ellen in
the back. Kaye reacted without thinking,
shoving him. It was only his drunkenness
that made her slight weight enough to
push him off balance. She saw the knife
as it clattered to the floor.
Lloyd's face was completely blank,
empty of any emotion at all. His eyes
were wide and his pupils dilated.
Frank, Stepping Razor's drummer,
grabbed Lloyd's arm. Lloyd had just
enough time to punch Frank in the face
before other patrons tackled him and
somebody called the police.
By the time the cops got there, Lloyd
couldn't remember anything. He was
mad as hell, though, cursing Ellen at the
top of his lungs. The police drove Kaye
and her mother to Lloyd's apartment and
waited while Kaye packed their clothes
and stuff into plastic garbage bags. Ellen
was on the phone, trying to find a place
for them to crash.
"Honey," Ellen said finally, "we're going
to have to go to Grandma's."
"Did you call her?" Kaye asked, stacking
her Grace Slick vinyl albums into an
empty orange crate. They hadn't so
much as visited once in the six years that
they'd been gone from New Jersey. Ellen
barely even spoke to her mother on the
holidays before passing the phone to
Kaye.
"Yeah, I just woke her up." Kaye
couldn't remember the last time her
mother had sounded quite so tired. "It'll
just be a little while. You can visit that
friend of yours."
"Janet," Kaye said. She hoped that was
who Ellen meant. She hoped her mother
wasn't teasing her about that faerie
bullshit again. If she had to hear another
story about Kaye and her cute imaginary
friends…
"The one you e-mail from the library. Get
me another cigarette, okay, hon?" Ellen
tossed a bunch of CDs into the crate.
Kaye picked up a leather jacket of
Lloyd's she'd always liked and lit a
cigarette for her mother off the stove
burner. No sense in wasting matches.
Chapter 1
Contents - Prev | Next
"Coercive as coma,
frail as bloom
innuendoes of
your inverse
dawn
suffuse
the self;
our
ever
y
corp
uscle
beco
me
an
elf." —
M
in
a
L
o
y
,"
M
o
r
e
o
v
e
r
,
t
h
e
M
o
o
n
.
"
T
h
e
L
o
s
t
L
u
n
a
r
B
a
e
d
e
k
e
r
Ka
ye
spu
n
do
wn
the
wo
rn,
gra
y
pla
nks
of
the
boa
rd
wal
k.
The
air
wa
s
hea
vy
and
sta
nk
of
dryi
ng
mu
ssel
s
and
the
cru
st
of
salt
on
the
jetti
es.
Wa
ves
tos
sed
the
ms
elv
es
aga
inst
the
sho
re,
dra
ggi
ng
grit
and
san
d
bet
we
en
thei
r
nail
s as
the
y
wer
e
slo
wly
pull
ed
bac
k
out
to
sea
.
The
mo
on
wa
s
hig
h
and
pal
e in
the
sky
,
but
the
sun
wa
s
just
goi
ng
do
wn.
It
wa
s
so
goo
d
to
be
abl
e
to
bre
ath
e,
Ka
ye
tho
ugh
t.
She
lov
ed
the
ser
ene
bru
talit
y of
the
oce
an,
lov
ed
the
ele
ctri
c
po
wer
she
felt
wit
h
eac
h
bre
ath
of
摘要：

TITHEAMODERNFAERIETALEHollyBlackContentsPrologueChapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15AcknowledgmentsSimon&SchusterNewYorkLondonTorontoSydneySingaporeSIMON&SCHUSTER1230AvenueoftheAmericas,NewYork,NewYork10020This...

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