It was difficult to escape the mill of gossip that churned amongst the Fae of the household in the days that followed. The same questions bred an undercurrent of chaos that the Master seemed ignorant to. He made no command to hush their speculation. He made no move to tamp their curiosity.

Did he know?

Could he know?

His brilliant smile haunted me at night and consumed me in the day. I was left with a never-ending cycle of self-doubt and brittle consolations.

I spent every free moment in the library, skimming through anything that made a reference to the trials but I was left dry of the information that I was desperate for.

"Looking for something?"

I was startled at the sudden appearance of the nameless woman, her face as expressionless as always.

"No," I answered, harsher than I'd meant it to be. I cleared my throat. "No," I repeated. "Thank you."

I walked away, turning down the next aisle as I scoured the shelves. She followed and I felt an inkling of irritation at the unwelcome intrusion. I opened my mouth to politely dismiss her.

"I saw you," she said.

My breath caught and I heard her draw nearer.

"That night," she clarified. "The gole-"

My hand covered her mouth instantly. "Don't," I mouthed. Her skin was starting to turn white around the edges of my hand from my grip but I refused to release her until I knew she would not elaborate any further.

Her eyes, usually glassy and unfocused, sharpened with displeasure at the command but she nodded anyway. I slowly lifted my hand from her mouth.

"It's none of my business-"

"It's not," I snapped.

"But you should tell your Master," she finished, unfazed.

"He's not my Master."

She shrugged as if she couldn't care less. "What do you think will happen to that little boy when they find out that your secret was being harbored by not only you, but him as well?"

I felt the sticky, tarry strands of guilt stir in the pits of my stomach as I thought about the promise I'd forced on him. "I- I didn't-"

She laughed. It was a self-deprecating, humorless sound but it was probably the first time I'd ever seen her look anything other than impassive. "He will pay the price for your sin. Don't you understand?"

"He won't," I insisted yet even as I said so, I knew that it wasn't something I could promise.

She stared at me. It was a cold, calculating gaze that made me wary.

"They treat you differently," she said.

I scoffed at the absurdity. "Do you think suffering a broken wrist is 'treating me differently'?"

"I know that suffering a broken wrist is probably the worst injury you've ever suffered," she retorted.

I slapped her. It pierced the silence that had cloaked the library and even as the sound faded into the darkness, I could still hear it ringing in my ears. My palm stung, a sharp reminder of just how uncharacteristic it was for me to act so violently. Anger overwhelmed the contrition that had started to pool and instead of the apology that had perched itself on the tip of my tongue, I ground out, "You know nothing of my suffering."

She was quiet as she palmed her cheek, not the least bit surprised at my outburst. "I know you call him by his name."

"That's not by choice."

"I know you suffer no consequences from looking into their eyes," she continued.

"I don't know if that will be the last time I do," I defended.

"I know that you should've gotten worse than a broken wrist."

I barely kept my voice low as I responded, "I didn't do anything to deserve that."

"We always do something to deserve it," she shot back coldly. "You're simply less deserving than the rest of us, it seems."

The loud snap as it broke, the sweltering heat on my skin, the degradation and humiliation and absolute pain as Mara held me up flashed through my head. Her words echoed unbidden in my head - Take the basket, human. This is as much fun as I'm allowed to have with you anyways.

A chill danced down my spine as I considered her choice of words. Allowed? There were no restrictions on the fun a Fae could have on humans unless it was a restraint imposed by someone higher - someone more powerful.

I felt sick as I considered - was this woman right? Should I have suffered worse? Should I have less limbs? More scars? Should my heart be hardened? Should my mind be fractured?

Should I be dead?

I balled my hands into a fist, using the pain from my wrist to redirect my thoughts.

"Tell him," she said softly. "They treat you different," she reiterated. "He treats you different. You may be spared. The boy won't be."

"What do you care?" I clenched my jaw. "He has nothing to do with you."

I saw her eyes dull again, lost in a memory that I was not privy to. "He reminds me of someone," she said. It was a quiet utterance, whispered without a second thought. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Regardless of whether or not I care for that boy, you clearly do. Take it from someone who knows - better you than him."

Having said her piece, she turned to leave. "I don't know your name," I called out.

She paused, the smallest echo of amusement curving the corner of her lips. "You never asked."

I didn't. I hadn't wanted to know the names of anyone I might grow close with if I could help it but the look in her eyes as she referenced whatever past that haunted her compelled me to ask now.

"It's Rose," she answered before walking away and I almost missed the faintly murmured 'Rosie' that trailed behind her.

~

I watched Sky finger the spines of each book, his head tilted fully to the side as he mouthed their titles. It was slow. It was soundless. 

I now felt the suffocating tendrils of guilt choke me each time I saw him. I couldn't help the gruesome images that flitted through my mind ever since Rose had urged me to confess my secret to the Master.

I imagined his tongue removed, his stomach gutted. I saw his corpse rotted and feasted on by crows and ravens until he was no longer recognizable.

I put my hand to my mouth and turned away. I squeezed my eyes shut as I resisted the urge to retch. Sweat had started to bead on my forehead yet I felt chilled to the bone.

Better you than him.

Rose's words echoed in my head and I wondered if she spoke those bitter words from experience.

Better you than him.

I couldn't agree more. How could I not have thought about the consequences of getting Sky involved in this matter? How selfish could I have been to ask him to keep such a promise?

I felt a tug. It was soft - almost inquiring - and I opened my eyes to see Sky's baby blues, concern pulling at his brow, a frown weighing at his lips.

I pulled his hand into mine and I crouched, forcing a reassuring smile. "I'm okay." I rubbed my thumb over his fingers - tiny fingers that the Master would tear sadistically, gleefully.

I pressed my lips together. The nausea was unrelenting as were the thoughts that precipitated them.

His other hand came up to my forehead as if he were checking for a fever. "Okay?" he asked.

The smile came easier this time as I nodded my head. I wondered if his mother used to do that for him. He was surely too young to know what a fever was yet he mimicked the action to check for one easily. It must've been his mother. It must've been someone who cared.

"I'm okay," I said, stronger now. I'd decided to tell Alvar that I was the final candidate of the Trials of Fire.

Because Rose was right. It was better me than him.

~

I felt strangely calm as I followed Rowan to the fire pits. He'd come to fetch me from the library, the same soft smile on his face as he relayed the Master's commands. He was to take me to the fire pits. Just as well as I had something to tell him anyways.

I hardly knew Sky. I had no obligation to that little boy.

Except I couldn't help but feel responsible for him. I wanted to make sure he had a chance to live the life he was given before it was snatched away from him. I was desperate to ensure that he had no reason to feel the pain and despair that we endured in this world.

I may not know the details of his bargain with the Master, but surely it was nothing so detrimental as human bargains usually were.

Sky had done nothing but wander the library the last few months. There were no summons, no tasks, no expectations. I should have been relieved but it only made me more anxious.

I stopped at the crest of the hill that overlooked the fire pits and was awed at the resplendent oranges, blues, and purples that melded together to form a stunning twilight. I took a moment to savor the fading rays of the sun's beauty as the curtains of nightfall started to fall.

"The Master requires your presence," Rowan reminded me.

I stared at the unmistakable figure of the Master a short distance away as I trekked toward him. He was draped in a silken robe, the color of the darkest depths of the ocean. His back was patterned with a large white circle - a moon that glowed against the inky blue of a darkened sky.

He was near the golem as I expected him to be but what struck me as odd was his hair. Long, loose, silvery strands that swayed gently with the wind. I sucked in a deep breath as I tried to slow the increasing gallop of my heart.

"Little Ashling," he greeted as I approached.

I swallowed. His hand was splayed on the golem's palm, the copper key nestled between his thumb and forefinger. Not touching, but quite close.

He tapped his finger. Once, twice.

"I have something to tell you." The words came out in a jumbled sprint though there was no other way I could've said it. Fear had started to make my tongue heavy. I licked my lips as if that would erase the feeling of my mouth being glued shut.

He raised a brow but did not look my way. "Oh?"

I raised my head, every instinct telling me that it was the wrong thing to do.

"I-"

He snapped his fingers and I flinched, snapping my mouth shut. The fire pits that remained undamaged sprung to life with fire. It was an icy, electric blue that reflected the Master's magic and it cast ominous shadows on his face.

"Riddle me this," he said, drumming his fingers thoughtfully. "How does a golem appear on the grounds of the strongest Si of the Aedan Kingdom but its receiver is nowhere to be found?"

My heart stuttered and I was sure he heard it.

"I considered many things - many improbable, implausible, impossible things. Perhaps, the other Kingdoms had infiltrated my household - a spy that was now on the run. Or maybe a spy of a different class. A sprite?"

He rolled his neck, peering at me under hooded eyes. "An imp - fickle things - could care less about the Trials and would just as easily reject the grace of the Elder Tree as he would embrace it."

He hummed and I started to tremble. "Little Ashling," he cooed.

His fingers stopped their drumming.

"Catch," he commanded and I immediately looked up, hands cupped to seize the item he'd thrown.

I almost stopped breathing. I didn't have to look down to know what he'd tossed at me. I glanced at the palm of the golem. It was empty.

His fingers were singed where it had touched the key but that was hardly an issue he was concerned with.

"Human. The candidate is a human," he chuckled, softly at first before throwing his head back to laugh .

The golem, having finished its duty, collapsed noisily into a mountain of dust and rubble but it did nothing to diminish his unadulterated peals of mania.

And I felt terror as I'd never known before.