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Aesa could feel the flesh turning to stone under her fingers. She could sense the life draining from the young girl’s body, knowing it was being soaked up like a sponge by one of the two remaining statues. The skin tightened and she could feel the little popping as the stone took over the flesh. Did it kill them or were they aware? Her uncle had told her that it had been like a half-sleep, constant dreaming, but also a vague awareness of the passing of time.
She hoped it was more painful than that. These were changelings, never true Fey. They were the weak, the disfigured, the flawed Fey, rejects of the most glorious of people and worse, they were now no more than human. They disgusted her even more than the mortals.
As the last piece that had once been the body of this very l
