I stared at them, and… they stared back. Eyelessly. Unmoving. Simply standing in the doorway, facing me.

Goosebumps rippled over my flesh as I debated my options. I had no idea what they were. I’d never seen anything like them before. If it had been a warg, my options would’ve been clear: fight or die. If it had been Miro, I could’ve handled that with some harsh words.

But these things, shaped like people, made of thorns and roses… I couldn’t even begin to guess what they were, or if they could be killed at all.

I’d made up my mind to focus on the thorny one first—his spines could be dangerous—when a voice rang out from behind them.

“Oh, for the ancestors’ sakes, there you’ve got off to—!”

At first, with the strangeness of it and the adrenaline humming through my veins, I couldn’t quite make sense of Wyn’s voice here, in the library, right at this moment.

But the bloodwitch came striding in, shooing the figures apart with little waves of her fingers. By the Light, they even moved like people—Thorn moved aside grudgingly, his head turning towards Wyn, while Rose did a dainty little side-step, with the grace of a born dancer.

Wyn huffed, adjusting her robes, and held out her hands like an impresario. “It worked! I am absolutely brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

Thorn’s head had turned towards me again. I cautiously reached for my journal, unwilling to move my eyes from the things for more than a few seconds. What worked? This? By the Light, what are they? 

“These are yours, made specifically for you by yours truly.” Wyn laughed, clapping her hands together with delight as she looked Rose up and down. “They’re a variety of golem, I suppose, as a Fae-made golem was the basis for their forms, but I’ve removed all unnecessary aggression from their magical makeup, and my own sanguimancy has imbued them with some rather interesting properties.”

Unnecessary aggression? I wasn’t entirely sure what a golem was to begin with, but if it was anywhere near as disturbing as these, I didn’t want to meet one.

“So.” Wyn gestured to Rose. “It’s become obvious that you won’t accept the help of the maids; now you have this lovely companion. And here…” She gestured to Thorn. “It will protect you with its… well, not its last breath, as it doesn’t have lungs, but you get the idea.”

I nodded numbly.

Why did they come here? I asked.

A wavering expression crossed Wyn’s face, half apologetic, half triumphant. “They’re made with your own blood, Cirrien. They weren’t released from the wards until after we’d run some necessary tests—ensuring they wouldn’t become hostile, or mutate, or… ah, any number of other things—but as your blood is the component for the sanguimancy giving them a semblance of life, they were drawn to you, like iron to a lodestone. Wherever you are, they’ll want to find you. Truly, this is a work of genius, and while I don’t expect anyone else to appreciate the magnitude of such an accomplishment, I feel absolutely zero scruples about shouting my achievement from the rooftops.”

She rubbed her hands together with glee, leaving me to stare at her.

They were going to follow me everywhere? Was… was this what Bane had been working on?

How lovely, I wrote weakly, wondering how I was going to sleep at night ever again, and startled as Rose raised her hands.

Thank you, she signed, ducking her head as though bashful, and my heart started racing. I lowered the journal and pen to the table.

“Yes,” Wyn said slyly. “As I said, they were made for you. They’re simple—after all, they are creations, not living creatures—but they will understand you. With that being said, these are the first of their kind. Perhaps I will refine the design and grant them more intelligence, though the ancestors know, a construct with intelligence of its own is always asking for trouble.”

You hear me? I asked with my hands, and Rose nodded. Thorn’s spiny hands moved more slowly, his movements cautious: I hear.

Rose stepped towards me, her movements still dainty and graceful; that must have been part of her design. Pretty, she said, touching my hair, then her own face. Same.

I couldn’t lie to myself; I was still quite nervous of them, these creatures made of Fae magic and Wyn’s bloodwitchery, but the wistful motion of Rose’s hand as she touched her own petal cheek was so… human.

We are the same, I told her, because it was true in two ways: she had been made with my blood, and truly, my hair was the same color as the petals that comprised her body.

Rose pressed her hands to her cheeks, almost like she was blushing and trying to hide it.

By the Light, this was surreal.

I grabbed my journal to speak to Wyn. Are you sure they won’t become hostile? They won’t harm Bane? 

“No, dear,” Wyn said, still smugly admiring Rose. “A little of his blood went into their forms as well; I used most of it in the guardian golem, encouraging its protective instincts, but neither of them are designed to see Bane as a threat.”

I wondered just how far their threat instinct went; if I grew annoyed at someone, would Thorn take that as an opportunity to do… whatever it was a golem did?

I would have to control my temper. Wyn might have tested them in wards, but this was Fae magic, and it was pretty clear by now that nothing good had come from the Fae.

But it was hard to remember that as Rose leaned over my desk, somehow examining my work without any eyes to see, and began straightening the piles of books with quick, delicate touches even I couldn’t fault.

I tried to think of a way to ask Wyn if she was really, truly sure they were safe without insulting her work, when the soft tap of claws on stone met my ears, and I glanced at the door with relief.

Bane filled it with his presence, looking tired and careworn, and he stopped at the sight of the golems. “You’ve made them already?” he asked Wyn, glancing at me. “Do you… do you like them?”

I nodded slightly, a little more of reticence leaking away as Rose smoothed a page-marking ribbon perfectly flat in the formal Veladari dictionary I’d been using. Then I raised a shoulder in a shrug; I was undecided.

Bane’s brow creased into the deep ridges they took on when he was irritated. “I wanted to be here when they were introduced,” he said. “In case things went poorly.”

“Visca and I ran plenty of tests.” Wyn sniffed. “There were no signs of hostility or insanity whatsoever. And of course I improved their forms, to make them less disturbing to the eye.”

“Even so.” His tone shifted smoothly into one of command. “The next time we do something involving Fae magic, I must be present when Cirri is introduced to it.”

Wyn shot him an annoyed glance, but she finally dipped her head. “Just so. Now, if you would stop nitpicking and admire my intellectual triumph…”

Bane let out a nearly inaudible sigh, and approached Rose first. His pointed ears went flat against his skull as he moved, swiveling to hear behind him; Thorn had smoothly slipped into place at his back, following exactly three paces from the fiend as he drew closer to me.

“Now, that’s not quite what I’d instructed them to do…” Wyn murmured, watching with sharp eyes as Thorn rounded Bane to stand by me.

I kept my arms at my sides, afraid of any sudden movements that might cause me to smash directly into those prickly limbs. Thorn ‘stared’ at Bane as he drew closer, clearly assuming a posture of defense.

Oh, by the Light… I didn’t think I could deal with a golem trying to come between me and my husband, as though Bane posed any threat to me whatsoever.

Bane’s ears flicked upwards again, his muzzle wrinkling, lip curling up to expose his fangs. “You’re made of my blood,” he snarled at the golem. “Back away.”