The Fae do not rush.
That was the first thing I remembered as Elias stepped fully into the Hollow, his boots leaving impressions in the soft earth that would not last. The forest accepted his weight politely, like a host tolerating an uninvited guest.
He smiled at me—warm, familiar, devastating.
"There you are," he said again, relief softening his voice. "I thought I lost you in the fog."
I couldn't answer.
The Queen circled us slowly, bare feet whispering against the ground. Her attention lingered on Elias with open appreciation, the way a collector looks at something rare that has finally wandered into reach.
"Does he see me?" Elias asked, glancing past me, his brow furrowing. "There's… someone else here, isn't there?"
"Yes," the Queen said, pleased.
Elias startled. His gaze snapped to her, confusion flashing into something deeper—unease, instinctive and sharp. Humans always felt it eventually. Their bodies knew long before their minds caught up.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The Queen smiled like a blade unsheathed slowly. "A creditor."
Elias laughed, short and nervous. "Okay. Right. This place is messing with my head."
He turned to me. "Hey. This is weird, yeah? We should go."
He reached for my hand.
The moment his fingers brushed mine, pain lanced up my arm—white-hot, surgical. I gasped and pulled back as the sigil beneath my skin burned, warning and command all at once.
Elias stared at his hand. "Did I—did I hurt you?"
The Queen clucked her tongue. "No touching," she said lightly. "Not anymore."
My heart hammered. "What did you do?"
"I enforced the terms," she replied. "A debt unpaid grows interest. A debt collected reshapes reality."
She gestured, and the Hollow responded.
The air thickened, heavy as sap. The space between Elias and me stretched—not physically, but meaningfully, like an invisible wall layered with consequence.
"Listen to me," I said, forcing my voice steady. "You need to leave. Now."
Elias searched my face. "Why are you talking like that?"
Because if I tell you the truth, I will break.
"Because this place isn't safe," I said instead.
The Queen tilted her head. "Oh, but it's perfectly safe. For you."
She stepped closer to Elias, circling him. He stiffened, discomfort finally sharpening into fear.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Her eyes flicked to me. "What I'm owed."
The forest exhaled.
"Fae debts," the Queen continued conversationally, "are not measured in gold or blood. Those are crude currencies. We deal in absence. In longing. In the spaces humans build their lives around."
She stopped behind Elias.
"You," she said, "are loved."
Elias frowned. "By who?"
Her smile widened.
By me.
The words burned behind my teeth, unspoken and poisonous.
The Queen raised her hand, fingers splayed. The air shimmered, reality thinning like stretched silk.
"This debt," she said, "is not death. Death ends suffering. This is far more efficient."
The ground beneath Elias shifted.
He stumbled, catching himself. "What's happening?"
The earth turned reflective, glass-smooth. Elias stared down as his reflection sharpened—not mirroring him, but studying him. It smiled first.
"No," I whispered, stepping forward despite the pain flaring in my chest. "Please."
The Queen did not look at me. "You asked me to save your sister. You said you would give anything."
"I didn't know," I said, voice breaking. "I didn't understand."
The Queen finally met my gaze.
"That," she said gently, "was the truth."
The reflection reached up, pressing its palm to the surface beneath Elias's feet. The glass rippled like water.
Elias backed away, panic flooding his features. "This isn't funny. Stop it."
He turned toward me, eyes wide, desperate. "Help me."
I tried to reach him.
Pain slammed through me again, harder this time, dropping me to my knees. The sigil burned like a brand, my body refusing the motion as if the debt itself had hands.
"I can't," I sobbed. "I'm sorry."
The reflection surged upward.
The glass swallowed Elias to his knees, then his waist. He screamed then—raw, human terror tearing from his throat.
"Please!" he cried. "I don't understand!"
"I know," I whispered.
The Queen watched, rapt.
"Remember this," she said to me. "The sound. The shape of his fear. You will carry it forever."
The glass closed around Elias's chest. His hands clawed at the surface, fingers smearing as if against a window that refused to break.
His eyes locked on mine.
Not accusation.
Not anger.
Only trust.
And confusion.
Then he was gone.
The reflection remained—Elias, whole and calm now, standing just beneath the surface. He looked up at me and smiled softly, the way he always had.
My scream tore through the Hollow, ripping from my chest until my throat burned.
The forest absorbed it.
When the silence settled, the Queen sighed in satisfaction.
"It's done," she said. "Your debt is paid in full."
I collapsed forward, hands pressed to the earth, shaking violently.
"You said," I choked, "you said I would lose what didn't love me back."
The Queen knelt beside me, her presence crushing and intimate.
"And you have," she replied. "Perfectly."
She brushed my hair back with almost tender fingers.
"He will exist," she continued. "Unaging. Untouched. Forever just beyond your reach. You will see him in dreams. In mirrors. In moments when your heart softens."
Her lips hovered near my ear.
"And every time you feel that ache," she whispered, "you will remember who taught you the cost of asking for miracles."
The forest began to unravel.
The Hollow faded like a receding tide, trees pulling back, moonlight dulling. The Queen rose, already losing definition, her form dissolving into leaves and shadow.
"One more thing," she said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere.
"This debt has marked you."
The sigil beneath my skin burned one last time.
"You belong to us now," she said. "Not as servant. Not as slave."
Her laughter lingered as the world snapped back into place.
"As proof."
I woke at dawn on the forest edge, dirt beneath my nails, tears dried on my face. My phone buzzed in my pocket.
A message from my sister.
Good morning. I made pancakes. Can you come over later?
I stared at the screen until the words blurred.
In the reflection of the darkened glass, someone stood behind me.
Elias.
Smiling.
Waiting.