Page 5 of Death of a Mortal

Often, they “forgot” to replenish the magic that sustained our life in the Mortal Lands of Ashenholt. I think they just didn’t give a shit. We had a few half-fae here in Briarstead that weren’t so bad. They chose a life on the mortal side of the alleged border, mostly for their mortal partners, and they pitched in where they could. They were seen as no better than mortals by the king and went without as much as we did.

I compartmentalized the rage I felt at Nella’s words. The fae had made us their playthings for far too long, and I was almost desperate enough to do something about it. But what was one mortal girl going to do against a fae kingdom?

I couldn’t let Nella feel the weight of the truth—that we were insignificant and powerless in our world.

“Well, if that’s the case,” I said, “then I wouldn’t just embarrass the king. I would force him to live every day in Briarstead the way we do. Can you imagine the look on his face if his bedclothes weren’t perfectly warmed, or if he didn’t get to yell at a dozen people beforebreakfast? I’d pay every coin I make for the rest of my life to see that look.”

That got my sister full-on belly laughing, and it was the most wholesome and comforting sound. We might be treated like shit by the fae, and even worse by our father and Aemilia, but as long as Nella could still laugh like that, then all was not lost. I just needed to make sure that the light in her never went out and the bleakness of reality never truly set in for her.

I pulled her closer to me in bed, and after her laughter faded, the late hour lulled her into a peaceful sleep. For a long time, I laid there, holding her as I contemplated what in the world I was going to do next. I needed to escape, but there was no way I could leave her here. And where would we even go, even if we could leave? I could seek answers from my mother, but I had no idea where she was or how to find her.

“One day soon,” I promised Nella, my voice barely above a whisper. “One day soon, we’re going to run and never look back.”

Chapter 2

Fae Giveth, Fae Taketh

It wasn’t untilseveral days later, walking to work, that I saw firsthand our town’s woes because of the fae and their carelessness with the magic they supplied. Not that it was new, but it was worsening. I noticed that the fire was out in most of the lamps lining the street, and the flowers that used to grow in vibrant pinks, purples, and yellows below the shop windows were brown, crunchy, and decaying. Even the townsfolk out and about looked as dull as the dead flowers.

The air felt…thin. Fae air magic was supposed to keep Briarstead from feeling stifling in summer, but today it hung stale and heavy, as if the whole town were holding its breath.

The last thing I saw before I walked into the bookshop I worked at was the owner of the café next door dumping a pitcher of brownish water into the street. “Disgusting,” she said with a shake of her head as she turned to head back inside.

I tried not to dwell on it, or else I’d get angry and reckless.

I loved my job. The tall, sagging shelves were filled with books that were an escape from this meager life. It paid just well enoughthat I could bring home some fabric and string for Nella’s quilting, and some extra food for us, seeing how Cassius and Aemilia made sure we got nothing more than scraps—just enough to stay alive. I couldn’t watch Nella wither away any more than I could let myself, so the wages weren’t enough to save up to leave this place for good.

Fadric came into the bookstore a few hours into my day, like always with an inviting smile and a coffee, tinkling the bell above the front door as he entered. He was handsome with his brown curls and dimples. He had a powerful look about him, even though he wasn’t the tallest guy around, and he was good at making me feel good. With my love so focused on my sister, I cared about him as deeply as I could, which admittedly wasn’t deep. But I know he tried. So I let myself smile back at him.

“Hi, beautiful, I brought you a coffee just the way you like it—nothing in it except the coffee.” He chuckled as he handed me the paper cup over the dusty counter.

We’d been doing this for several months now, since our relationship started. Fadric was my first real boyfriend if you didn’t count my five-year-old romance that had started with a boy pulling my ponytail on the playground at school, and me then pushing him to the ground.

“Thanks, Fadric.” I took a halfhearted sip. It was way too hot, and I was way too groggy. And I swore there was a metallic taste to the water used to make it like Nella had mentioned the other night.

“Are you feeling okay? You look like you’ve been through it,” he said, much to my dismay.

The constant stress, anxiety, and fear didn’t allow for much sleep. The failing magic in town didn’t help either, and my face showed it in the dark circles and premature wrinkles. That could also have been the shitty drinking water and the lack of a full meal most days.

“Yeah, Fad, feeling fine. Is that concern for my well-being or just how I look?” I snapped back. I wasn’t in the mood to be patronized today.

“What? No, I just…I feel like maybe you didn’t sleep, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I huffed out a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m fine, just tired like you said. Thanks for the coffee. It helps.”

I offered him a small smile, and he seemed to accept it as he jumped up onto the counter and sat next to the fantasy book I had open. I liked this one. It was about a princess who rescued herself from the bad guy and stole the prince’s noble steed to ride off into the sunset by herself. Classic.

“So I was thinking we could go to The Flayed Pig later for some drinks and a quick bite before heading off on our own, my treat.” He gave me a knowing grin that told me what “on our own” meant. “I assumed your dad would be at the king’s raffle, and we could be alone for the night.”

At that suggestion, he scooted a little closer to me and reached out to touch my cheek. He was right about one thing—my dad would, indeed, be occupied, vying for a single gold piece from the king in a monthly, raucous event tonight at our local tavern. The night would start as a raffle drawing for who got the gold piece but would soon descend into an all-out brawl of fists and boots in a show of strength for whoever felt they deserved it most, raffle be damned. The thought of it made me sick. One gold piece, once a month, tossed out to mortals like scraps to dogs. King Caedryn called it “charity.” The rest of us called it what it was—a reminder of our place.

The gold piece could buy a month’s worth of food for an entire family. But knowing Cassius, he would spend it on booze, maybe some food, and new clothes for Aemilia—if he ever won, which he didn’t. That cowardly piece of shit would rather hedge his bets at winning a raffle than make any decent wages at an actual job.

“Honestly, Fadric, I want to just stay home with my sister tonight and enjoy my Cassius-free hours. I have a break in thirty minutes if you want to meet me out back.” With each passing day, I felt myself pulling further away from him, but the sex was a good momentaryrelease from everything else in this forsaken life, one small thing I could steal for myself.

He stared at me for a moment, confused by my brashness. “Um, well, if you’re not free this evening, then I would love to steal a few blissful moments with you on your break.”

Ugh, he tried to sound so gallant about fucking on my lunch break behind a bookshop. Okay, maybe it was kind of hot, but there was no need for the facade. He was too nice to call it what it was—I had little to no room in my mind and life for unnecessary pleasantries. I didn’t want a future and roots here; I wanted wings.