"Eirnin's silver eyes, now showing hints of bright yellow, widened in astonishment as he stared, transfixed, at the red blood dripping from the wound on Story's foot."

""What" are "you?""

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A simple question with a not-so-simple answer for seventeen-year-old Story, who finds herself, a lone human, thrust in the middle of a war between creatures she once thought only existed in faerie tales.

"Spring has something of mine; he knows what it is." She smiled coldly. "I need you to bring it to me."

"And why would I do that?" Story folded her arms over her chest.

A branch from the sidhe's hair glided out in front of her, bearing a single, small acorn. "Because I poisoned Eirnin."

One of the tattoos on her shoulder coalesced into a live oak leaf, and she plucked it before standing up and holding it out toward Story. "And if you want the antidote, you will bring me what I seek."

Story lunged for the leaf, but the Autumn Princess was too quick and crushed it in her hand....