With shaking fingers, Elle traced the various star shapes on the quilted bedspread her mother had made. She didn’t know what to do, what to feel. She had always had a plan. She had always had hope, no matter how slim. And now she had … nothing. There was a gaping hole in her chest, and she didn’t know what to fill it with.

She looked up as Salvia’s shouts reached her ears from downstairs. Then Sienna’s cry. Salvia was probably interrogating Sienna, trying to figure out if she knew anything about Elle’s Essence collection. Would Sienna give in and tell the truth? Salvia would only hurt her more if she did.

As Sienna’s cries intensified, Elle squeezed her eyes shut and let her tears tumble over her cheeks. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, rocking herself back and forth. But she didn’t try to block her ears. It was her fault Sienna was being punished, and it didn’t seem right to try and escape the terrible sounds.

When the shouting, crying and stomping footsteps eventually faded to silence, Elle unwrapped her arms. She climbed off her bed and went to the window. “Look to the stars,” she whispered. It was a line embroidered somewhere on her quilt. But the stars had no answers. They held no hope. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered into the night.

She raised her finger to the dusty window. In a way, she had known since the moment she saw her Essence box sitting out in the open on her bed that it would come to this. But she’d resisted it for so long that she needed just a little more time to accept that this was now the only way out.

She traced a symbol in the dust of her window. A symbol she shouldn’t know. Good, law-abiding citizens were supposed to avert their eyes from things like this. But Elle had seen it around the city, spray-painted onto walls in alleys, or scratched onto tree trunks. A curve, almost like an S, with three lines and a loop. The symbol of the Godmother.

Elle took a step back and stared at the shape. Her voice shook as she whispered, “I need your help, Godmother.”

Then she waited, her heart pounding, unsure of how long this was supposed to take. When a voice spoke behind her, she almost fell to her knees in fright. She spun around, and there, perched on the edge of her bed, was a woman. Her short, elegantly styled hair was completely white, while her eyes were a deep, rich brown. Her skin—like that of most fae—was flawless, exquisite.

“Y—you’re the Godmother?” Elle asked, though the question was entirely unnecessary.

“Yes. And you’re … Elle. Estelle Winter.”

Elle blinked. “You know me?”

“We’ve met before. I never forget an essence.”

“I’m human,” Elle said faintly. “I don’t have Essence.”

“Not that kind of essence.” She crossed one leg over the other. “I mean that inexplicable quality that makes you you. Faces change with time. Names can change too. But no one’s essence ever changes. It’s the sense I get from your spirit, your soul, whatever you want to call it. The part of you that is not physical.”

“So—wait.” Elle shook her head. “When did we meet?”

The Godmother’s lips curved into a smile. “That is someone else’s story, not yours.”

“But … what? That doesn’t make sense. If I was there, then it’s part of—”

“I decide what makes sense, Elle. Don’t forget that. Now, let’s get down to business. I assume you summoned me because you’d like to wish for something.”

“I—yes.” Elle took a steadying breath. “I would like to wish for my freedom.”

“I see. Well, that’s fairly straightforward.”

“Um, okay. That’s good.”

“The price, however, is never straightforward.”

Elle sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

“Come closer,” the Godmother commanded, and after a moment’s pause, Elle stepped forward. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?” Elle asked, at which the Godmother merely raised a single, perfectly arched eyebrow. “Right, of course,” Elle muttered, reaching her hand out.

The Godmother took it. Her skin was smooth and cool, but not icy. She closed her eyes, and Elle felt something like a tiny zap of electricity dance along her skin. She waited, holding her breath, until finally the Godmother opened her eyes and let go of Elle’s hand.

“Interesting,” she said. “Very interesting indeed.”

“I would ask what it is you find so interesting, but I know you won’t tell me.”

“No, I won’t.” She smiled. “But it seems I do have a use for you after all.”

“Okay. Great. What do I need to do?”

The Godmother tipped her head to the side. “How badly do you want your freedom?”

Elle’s eyebrows jumped. “Do you have to ask? I mean, I summoned you, didn’t I? So I must be pretty desperate.”

“Well,” the Godmother said, looking somewhat taken aback. “I would pretend to be offended, but I have to admit I’m impressed you would dare to say such a thing out loud.”

“Look, I know the price is going to be something I don’t want to pay,” Elle said, “but I’m out of options, and this isn’t just about me. My stepsister needs to get away from this abusive household too, but she’s too young to be out there on her own. I need my freedom so I can run away and take her with me. That’s how badly I want this wish.”

“Your stepsister is more important to you than anyone else?”

“Yes. She’s the only true family I have left.”

“Good,” the Godmother said. “Let’s talk specifics then, shall we?”

“Yes,” Elle answered, steeling herself for whatever was to come.

“There’s a masquerade ball happening soon at the palace.”

“I know.” Elle frowned as she wondered what this had to do with anything.

“If you want your freedom,” the Godmother said, “you will go to this ball.”

“Okaaaaay.”

“And you will kill the fae prince.”