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At least it wasn’t Astrid or Ophelia or Aslaug anymore. She didn’t like those names, but they were common, and common meant people didn’t think twice about them. Astrid could blend in with all the other Astrids, but Kolfinna was a name that made people pause and ponder. She hoped she didn’t have to become another Ophelia. This time she was Inga, and she liked Inga because it was short and sweet, just like her sister’s name, Katla.

“—fae.”

Kolfinna flinched. Her attention swiveled to Jofurr and Dalla, who were both still cleaning the windows, seemingly unaware of her stiff posture or bloodless face. Her heart continued to race a million beats a second, but no one was jumping on her and pointing fingers. They were conversing like normal.

They didn’t find her out, she told herself.Relax.

Jofurr scratched his head. “—they’re going to keep wasting resources on—”

“It’s not wasted resources if they do it in their free time,” Dalla said.

He shrugged. “I guess, but with the powers they have … don’t you think their abilities would be better used in other ways to help people?”

“Hunting fae is for the greater good. I don’t know what other task could be more important! My own father was a member of the Hunter’s Association,” Dalla said, puffing her chest out. A rare smile upturned her thin, peeling lips. “He even helped hunt a few back when he was younger.”

Kolfinna’s grip on her rag tightened and warm water squeezed out from the cloth, dripping down her wrist and pooling uncomfortably on her sleeve. The Hunter’s Association had been a wing of the military before people realized the hunters weren’t doing much. They couldn’t hunt fae that didn’t exist. Their predecessors had fulfilled their goal: eradicating the fae. Now, it was only a hobby organization to catch stragglers that somehow slipped out from the fine-toothed comb the Hunter’s Association filtered through the years. Most fae were dead. All the ones Kolfinna knew were dead.

A year ago, her blood would’ve boiled at the mention of the Hunter’s Association. Her mind would’ve been filled with hundreds of thoughts of how she would enact brutal, violent retaliation on any hunter she saw. But now, her veins ran with ice at the thought of a hunter. Her mana shriveled and her mouth filled with ash.

Dalla’s smile faded and she paused with her cleaning. “Unfortunately, a mission gone wrong and that was that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jofurr’s voice lowered in sympathy.

“Thank you,” she said with a dismissive wave. “But it was ages ago and I’ve long moved on in life. But it’s a shame the association is no longer as funded as it used to be.”

“It’s a good thing,” he said. “Because they’ve done their job.”

“Not really. There are still fae wandering around, kidnapping innocent children and new brides! One thing my father always told me is to never trust the fae. They’re evil, deceitful, and manipulative! It’s in their nature.” Dalla leaned closer to Jofurr as if she was telling him a long-kept secret. “Those monsters have an advantage over us, even with their dwindling numbers. While we have to work incredibly hard to be able to use our magic, it comes easily to them! So, no matter if it’s a child fae or a grown one, never trust it, because chances are, it’s biding its time before it takes your soul!”

Kolfinna focused on a particular cluster of dead bugs splayed across one of the windows. She scrubbed at it with her rag, watching as their dead bodies swam across the glass with every wave of her hand. Dalla was half right. Magicdidcome easily to the fae. They were more attuned to the mana flowing through their bodies, as if their vessels were made for mana. But the fae didn’t kidnap children or brides. Or eat souls. Or whatever outlandish folktales had spread throughout the centuries.

Kolfinna swallowed the bile clawing up her throat. She was Inga, and Inga wasnormal.

“Do we have any jobs after this one?” Kolfinna hoped her smile wasn’t strained and awkward. She didn’t remember how to smile. Katla used to smile all the time.Such a pretty face with an evil smile, Katla used to tell her when they were amicable, but when they fought, she used to sayyou’rean evil little thing with a pretty smile. It was all in jest. But Katla was dead, and Kolfinna’s smile fell flat.

“No.” The frown lines framing Dalla’s mouth deepened. “The school didn’t book us for the interior cleaning, and our next clients canceled this morning.”

“So we’re done for the day?” Jofurr’s eyes lit up.

Dalla exhaled exasperatedly and gestured towards the windows of the decaying school. “Yes, but onlyafterwe’re done with these windows.”

That seemed to invigorate him because he bobbed his head and set to work polishing the windows like his life depended on it. Kolfinna joined him in the monotonous job. Up, down, side to side. She moved the damp cloth over the smears of fingerprints and dead bugs. In the reflection, the students had stopped running laps and sat on the ground. They drank water out of canisters and laughed with their peers. She could imagine herself with them. She would smile and laugh freely like there was no burden on her shoulders. She would wrap her arm around her friend and give her a squeeze. She would pat another one’s back as he heaved for air. Maybe they would complain about how hard their teacher was pushing them. But then Kolfinna dragged the rag over the reflection, banishing it from her thoughts.

“Inga, do you have plans after work?” Jofurr asked as he moved to the next window beside her. His blue eyes shot in her direction. “If you’re free, my wife is making her famous beef stew for dinner tonight.”

She could imagine herself sitting with Jofurr and his wife and kids. She could see it so clearly that she almost said yes, but then the opposite picture took over: Jofurr pointing at her as he told the military officials she was a fae. The thought sent razors down her spine.

“Ah, I have plans,” she said with another strained smile.

“Oh, really?”

Time slowed and she swallowed the thick dread building in the pit of her stomach and clawing up her throat. Why did he doubt her? Could he tell she was lying?

“That’s a shame,” he said with a kind smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah …”

Dalla snapped her fingers and called out to them, “Quit dillydallying and get to work!”