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W hen a knock sounded at my door the next morning, I was surprised to find Arden on the other side. “How have you been?” he asked.

“Ok, so far ... but that might change soon.” My head throbbed from stress and a poor night of sleep. “Are you here to take me to my offering?”

“Yes. But I came a little early in case you needed time to prepare ... or eat.” He gestured toward the untouched bowl of grits sitting in the chair.

“I’m too nervous for gruel this morning,” I said. “But I’m also not in a hurry to get my blood drained.”

A shadow crossed his face. “I wanted to check in on you yesterday, but Jesmine has had me running all over since I returned.”

“It’s ok, I didn’t know if you were allowed.

… Did you see my extravagant room? I even got a window,” I joked, trying to mask my worry.

“If I’m being honest, at least it’s better than a cell in a dungeon, which is what I imagined I’d be thrown in, and from what I hear, that is not a place I want to visit.

” Realizing I was rambling nervously, I changed the topic. “Is your room in this hall?”

“No, I am on the third floor.” He pointed upward. “As Lady Jesmine’s personal attendant, it works better if I am nearby. You and Claire are the only other human servants. The others are Ashlora, or mostly so, and are here for work. You two are the only ones in this hall.”

“That makes sense,” I replied. “Arden, you still don’t have any idea what to expect for the blood offering, do you?” I was desperate for any clues.

“Sorry, no.” He shrugged. “But we should get going. It’s best not to keep her waiting.” Unable to stop wringing my hands, I took a deep breath and followed him down the hall.

We took the back stairs up to the third floor.

I should have tried to memorize the maze of hallways, but my thoughts were racing.

Staring down at my mother’s bracelet, I tried to think of her smile to settle my nerves.

The effort backfired. Instead, I recalled the disturbing Slip that lurked in the Shadow Wilds.

I lowered my hands and locked my arms to my sides.

Too soon, the carved double doors appeared, propped open and waiting as we entered the Keeper’s laboratory.

Jesmine stood at the other side of the room. She studied the text of an enormous book which rested atop a pedestal. Robed in a dark lavender dress with a high collar that accentuated her tall stature and ran all the way to the floor. Her thick red hair was elegantly pulled up into a plaited bun.

“Your Blood Offering, my lady,” Arden announced.

Without looking up, Jesmine pointed toward a wooden chair at the side of the room. Beside it was a small table of supplies. “Sit her there. Then continue your duties.”

I sat, nodding to Arden as he left.

While waiting, I studied my surroundings. In addition to the collection of fingers and toes previously pointed out, the shelves were lined with books, flasks, corked bottles, dried herbs and more potions—lots of potions.

I recalled seeing such bottles at the apothecary in Fernton.

The Ashloran potions were always locked behind a glass panel in a special cabinet.

It was rumored the mixtures contained Ashlora blood, which gave them immense power.

Their value tripled that of anything human made.

When illness struck and a family was desperate, a substantial debt was taken out to secure just one vial of Ashloran healing potion—or as I learned in Claire’s case, a child was traded.

The amount of potion that lined the walls would be enough to buy an entire city.

“Jarrett!” Jesmine called, breaking the silence. “Come here and learn how to collect blood for the human ward.”

Seconds later, a stocky man appeared from a door at the far side of the room. Dressed in a black uniform, similar to Arden’s, I guessed he was in his late thirties. A few gray streaks softened his short black hair and beard. “I’m here, my lady,” he said.

Pulled from her book, Jesmine sighed. “I can’t be bothered with such a tedious task every day for the next three moons. So, pay attention. You will be responsible for collecting her blood when I am busy.”

Jarrett’s deep-set eyes skimmed over me with an unyielding expression. He followed the Keeper as she crossed the room.

Standing before me, Jesmine huffed down her nose. “Oh, don’t worry girl, I only need one vial a day.”

Her words gave me no comfort. My heart kicked up its rhythm.

She bent, reaching for my arm, icy fingers wrapped around my wrist. The Keeper was so close I could see the flecks of dark gray swirls in her eyes.

Heart thrashing, I fought the urge to pull away.

With Jarrett watching, she instructed, “Wrap her arm firmly here.” A snug band was brought around my upper arm. “Then locate a vein below … and like so.”

A flash of pain radiated up my arm and a stream of blood trickled down. Without warning, she had cut my forearm. I hadn’t even seen the blade in her hand.

“Use a drawing vial to pull out the amount needed. The blood will slow when the container is full.”

I watched as she brought forward a small glass vial, holding it beside my forearm.

My blood stopped its downward flow. Witchcraft, I thought. The stream of blood diverted its direction, a river rerouted. The crimson trail floated off my skin and directly into the vessel, guided by some invisible force.

Neither Jesmine nor Jarrett seemed the least bit amazed by what was happening. They watched, unimpressed—just one of the Keeper’s many powers.

I closed my mouth and swallowed my shock.

“Cover and wrap the cut when it’s done.”

A strip of cloth was pulled from a tray, and Jesmine fastened it over my wound.

Her intense gray eyes locked on me. “See, now that wasn’t so bad. If your human blood wasn’t so weak, I could have the ward renewed in mere days. Instead, we must repeat this process for an intolerable three moons.”

Three moons .

I reached for my voice. “What is to happen to me after the three moons … my lady?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You will remain my servant, of course. That is the trade agreed upon by your sovereigns. I never know exactly what services I will be needing.” A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. “But I am sure I will find a suitable role for your … qualities.”

The way she spoke—as if I were a mere possession for her entertainment—heated my blood.

Arden’s many reminders to keep my head low, rang in my mind. I bit my tongue. If I had any hope of gaining my freedom, I would need to persuade this Ashlora witch to let me go.

“Now Jarrett, make sure you bring her blood to the distilling chamber while it is still warm. It is essential to the warding.” She corked the vial and handed it to him, then twisted away. “That is all,” she finished. Without a second glance, she withdrew into the back room.

“Are you lightheaded?” Jarrett asked, snapping my attention back in front of me.

I gathered myself. “No, I don’t think so.” I started to rise to my feet.

He put out a hand, stopping me. “Give it a minute and then I’ll take you back to the lower level.”

Jarrett didn’t exactly come across as warm and friendly, but I appreciated the consideration, even if he was just following orders.

Once he was convinced I wouldn’t faint, we began our trek through the winding hallways and down the grand stairway.

We reached the first floor landing when Arden appeared, escorting a teenage boy with his arms bound behind him. With a determined set to his jaw, Arden’s footsteps quickened, and he rushed the boy onward without a word.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“It’s better not to concern yourself with the Keeper’s dealings,” Jarrett replied in a low voice.

Yes, he was right. Whatever was going on with that boy was Jesmine’s business. I had my own worries to process. I shoved the lingering thoughts of the encounter out of my head.

“This hall leads to your room. Claire will retrieve you shortly. I will come down and collect you for the next three mornings so you can learn your way to the lab. Be ready at dawn.”

Back in my room, I lowered myself onto the cot.

That was it!? I thought. A little cut on my arm and a vial of blood—that was what I had worried myself sick over!

A bewildered laugh escaped me.

Three days ago, I nearly fled into the Shadow Wilds to escape a tiny cut on my forearm and offer a vial of blood.

And— three moon cycles! I would be done with my service as the Blood Offering before summer faded into winter. Can that really be true?

My relief tempered as I replayed the rapacious look in Jesmine’s eyes, how she conveyed her eagerness to find a use of my qualities.

What services does she have in mind? Will I be scrubbing floors with Claire until the end of my days? A voice in the back of my head whispered that her plan would be much more sinister.

There would be no freedom until the blood ward was fulfilled. The blood bond assured that. However, I was determined to gain my independence afterwards. I had to.

I had three months to persuade Jesmine to let me go.

Claire appeared at my door, interrupting my thoughts and reminding me it was time for chores.

As we stepped away from my room, she looked me over. Warily, she asked, “Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No, not too bad. Just a minor cut.” Holding up my arm to show her, I added, “I feel silly about how terrified I was … only to end up with a slight scratch.”

“It’s a relief, I’m sure.”

“You really didn’t know?” I asked. I was happy that Claire seemed to be opening herself up to me.

“No. I heard a Blood Offering is delivered every ten years, but none of the other servants have been here that long, or none that talk to me at least. I didn’t know what to expect. … I would have told you, if I’d known.” A timid smile lifted her lips as she glanced over.

We began our way up the back stairwell.

Her warmth was something I hadn’t realized I needed. It was a simple sign that someone here cared about my well-being, however slight it may be. And while I refrained from reaching out to hug her, I shared a wide grin. “Thank you. Your kindness means more than you can know.”

Turning her eyes down, she quietly replied, “It’s nice to have someone around.”

We turned into the guests’ hallway, and I stopped—or was stopped—as I ran directly into the shoulder of an Ashlora guest.

The man was more than a head taller than me, with a lanky frame and cold gray eyes.

The instant his shock subsided, his gaze narrowed, and he lifted an arm, shoving me back.

My elbow hit the stone wall, sending a jolt of pain up my arm. I staggered to my knees.

“Filthy creature, get out of the way!” he snarled. “I don’t understand why the Keeper allows your kind up here, let alone touch our things, even if it is to wipe the dirt from our feet.” He spit on the ground in front of me.

Frozen with shock and fear, I stared at the floor.

He marched around me and disappeared down the hall.

Claire rushed to help me up. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I … I didn’t see him.” I swallowed. The absolute hatred in his eyes still burned in my mind.

“Ugh. He’s one of the nastiest guests she has,” Claire said. “Not that many of them are much better. … Now you see why I warned you to stay out of the way.”

I knew there was hatred between the different races. I’d heard plenty of nasty things said about Ashlora from the mouths of humans. It was understood that the feelings went both ways. But I’d never been the one to receive such venom directly.

My stomach was a hard knot as I gathered myself and continued down the hall with Claire.

As the day progressed, and we cleaned room after room, I tried to relax, but the unease lingered. The incident was so jarring. All I could think was how I needed to find a way out of this nightmare.

With my hands busy, I forced myself to focus on a plan.

I played through scenarios of what I could say to Jesmine to gain her favor—flatter her wardrobe or compliment her hairstyle …

that all seemed too transparent. I needed to find out what drove her.

What sort of praise would she be looking for?

I needed to make her like me, so I could persuade her to let me go.

That afternoon, Claire explained that the Ashlora lingering about were mostly scholars.

They were here to learn Jesmine’s trade secrets and strived to be noticed by the Keeper.

Jesmine was a leader, a superior, and shared her methods with a select few.

Her position was highly respected and required extensive training, along with an extraordinary knowledge of blood alchemy and ward building—I had seen proof of those things already.

Claire divulged that Jesmine was not one to shy away from attention. In fact, Jesmine loved to entertain and frequently held events in which the second floor overflowed with lords and ladies.

As promised, Jarret showed up the next three mornings and escorted me to the lab. Following instructions, he cut my arm and collected my blood with the drawing vials. We spoke very little, but he was kind enough to warn me before making the incisions.

While I preferred his subdued company to Jesmine’s, I was eager to start on my plan. When will I see her again? I wondered. I couldn’t build a friendship with her if she was never there.

On the fifth day, I found my way up to the lab.

Jesmine stood waiting.