Humans, with their iron-rich blood, are walking anti-magic. They can’t use magic, but they’re also immune to it.

Being a changeling has some perks. Like, living in a kingdom where your best friends has braids of flowers instead of hair and the boy down the road has butterfly wings. Where everything shimmers as if it’s an overexposed photograph that’s had glitter dumped on it, even when it’s raining. Where the trees whisper compliments to you and the birds comb out your hair. Of course, I’m the only human in the entire kingdom. That’s the part that doesn’t have any perks. Except being an oddity, maybe. But that’s a stretch. Being an oddity means that my best friend, the one with the flower hair, gets made fun of for being my best friend. And the hot boy with the butterfly wings rejected me before I confessed my crush. But other than all that, it’s paradise. Sure, I can’t do magic. But I can see it happening. My sister in the human world is the sucker, really. She’s gotta live with my real parents and eat baked potatoes every night, probably. My toes swish in the water of the lake—the water is glittering, of course, and it’s the color of blue food dye. I would go swimming, but even my toes are in danger right now. The kelpie who lives in here is still mad at me that I thought she couldn’t speak in anything but horse language. I might drown any minute. The wind picks up, blowing my hair into my face. In the trees beyond the lake, I see a darkness gathering. Someone’s aura, maybe. People have funny auras sometimes, ones you wouldn’t expect. Maybe some girl got dumped by her forest spirit boyfriend and is feeling a little dark. Those forest spirits are always fickle. A figure steps out beyond the tree line. I almost fall into the lake, kelpie be damned. That’s him, the boy with the owl wings that are too big for him, whose skin is gray. No one is gray here. Except him. Being gray in a place like this, well…it means something’s wrong. Nature doesn’t like you if you’re sapped of color. It’s a curse. Everyone talks about this boy, how he kills things with a touch, how he’s been banished, how he lurks in the woods. I’ve never seen him before. But now maybe he’s decided it’s time to kill the stupid human girl who’s invaded the kingdom. “Wait, don’t go away!” He calls to me. I contemplate falling into the lake again, but don’t. “Please, wait. I lost my stag. Have you seen him?” I look at him with reproach. “Why do you need a stag? You can fly.” “He’s my friend.” The boy hesitates. “He’s dead, but he’s my friend.” I scramble up. “You want me to help you look for your zombie stag? No! Go away!” “I can’t hurt you, I promise.” The boy steps closer, starting to move around the lake. “That’s why I’m asking you. You’re human, I can’t do anything to you.” “What?” I want to walk away, but I don’t. “Your blood, it’s iron. It’s anti-magic. My death magic can’t hurt you.” “So they were right. You kill things when you touch them.” I cross my arms over my chest and start slowly backing up. “Leave me alone.” “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I can’t hurt you!” Without warning, the boy springs into the air and lands beside me. His fingers reach out for me and before I know what’s happening, he’s gripping my arm. I do not die. His face is an inch from mine. “See?” His voice is quiet, pleading. “You’re not dead. I can’t hurt you. Please don’t go away.” Strangely, he smells like honey. I thought he’d smell like rotting meat. His eyes are golden up close, glowing from the inside out, but warmly. His gray skin is soft. He has two very small horns poking out the top of his head, beneath his long hair. He’s not as hot as the butterfly-winged boy, but he’s not bad. I shrug my arm out of his grasp. “Okay. I’m not dead. How did you know that would happen?” “I’ve been watching. No magic the others cast around you has any effect, not because of any charm that’s been cast on you—that wore off years ago. It’s you. Your blood. You can’t do magic, but you can’t be touched by it, either.” “So you figured this out by stalking me?” The boy snorts, suddenly seeming far less vulnerable. “Don’t flatter yourself. I watch everybody.” I can’t believe I’m standing here, talking to this person who I know has killed. Most faeries are complicated in their nature, yeah, but this one…he’s got death in his essence. “I know what you’re thinking,” the boy says. “You don’t have to stay. But you’re my one shot at having a friend who’s not a dead animal. Someone I won’t hurt, can’t hurt. I’m just asking for a chance.” I step back and look at him. The wind rustles his wing feathers and his hair, which momentarily obscures his face. His brows are furrowed, eyes large and hopeful. This boy does not seem like a killer. He seems lonely. I decide in that moment that I will make the move to officially become the kingdom’s biggest idiot. “Fine. I’ll be friends. But if you start creeping, I’m out.” “Yes! Yes, that’s good. That’s good.” The boy smiles wide and his wings flutter slightly. “You won’t regret this. I promise.” Inside, I chide myself. Stupid idiot. Outwardly, I laugh awkwardly. “That’s a big thing to promise.” He takes one of my hands in both of his. I still don’t die. “I know. But I promise.”