Prologue  
 
 
Lilium watched silently as the stormy grey waves lapped against the shore, washing over the dark pebbles. Her fists clenched tight beside her as doll white hands clasped her shoulders. Were those hands there to pull her back? Or were they there to push her? Lilium turned to look at the one behind her, blonde hair being whipped into her face. “Must I go, Mother?” She asked, eyes hooded, but not uncurious. 
 The porcelain woman, whose hands were locked on her shoulders, nodded soberly, her ebony hair shrouding her delicate features. It was if she couldn’t meet the child’s eyes, “I’m afraid so, my child.” She lifted a hand to brush it across Lilium’s cheek, “But it is for the best.” 
A young man’s voice spoke behind them, “Dear child, you’ll give us life.” He grinned widely, “By taking yours away.” 
The mother held up her hand for the boy’s silence, “Be quiet, Charlie. We mustn't frighten her more.” She turned her attention back to the girl, “You are doing the right thing, my dear. You are saving us!”  
Lilium smiled at Mother, tears beginning to glide down her cheeks, the panic becoming obvious on her face. She clenched her eyes shut, to block out the world. To shield her from this frightening reality she was experiencing. She turned to the small crowd that had gathered behind her, “Will I see any of you again?” 
A small blonde child reached their hand to the girl, “If it works, then yes.” 
Lilium smiled at her, wiping the tears on her face away with the back of her hand. She puffed out her chest and nodded. She inhaled deeply and stepped away from the ledge. Mother looked at her strangely before Lilium turned back, breaking out into a sprint, flinging herself off the edge of the cliff.  
She hurtled towards the rocks, tumbling over and over, her hair whipping her face harshly. A scream tore out her throat as her body hit the ground, the sounds of her bones snapping becoming lost in the waves. Her face contorted with pain as she tried to breathe and she scratched at the pebbles, fingernails tearing. Mother appeared by her side and leaned down, caressing the girl’s cheek. Charlie sighed impatiently from behind the porcelain woman, “Mother, she’s still alive.” 
Mother nodded, “I can see that, Charlie.” He joined the woman crouched next to the broken body of the fragile girl. Lilium struggled to turn her head to look at them, her eyes glassy and dark blood dribbling down her chin. Her voice came out like a sigh, “It’s hurts.”  
One by one the crowd gathered around her, some looking away, others couldn’t take their eyes off her. Mother brushed a few strands of hair away from Lilium’s face and nodded solemnly, “It’s supposed to.”  
Lilium nodded slowly, feeling so completely numb. She looked once at Mother before her body sank into the pebbles. She was gone. No light fading from her eyes, no dramatic last breath, no tears. Just gone. Mother carefully ran a hand over Lilium’s eyes, closing them gently. She bowed her head. 
Charlie stood and glanced around the beach, his eyes darkening and his voice quite bitter, “Welcome back, child.” 
Mother stood slowly and clasped her hands together as she shook her head at the smoky grey apparition of the newly dead. Lilium looked around slowly, taking in the sights of everyone again, almost as if she had forgotten. She glanced at mother before casting her eyes to the ground. The girl fumbled with her hands before speaking in a hushed voice, “Did it work?”  
Mother shook her head and the crowd muttered unwarily amongst themselves. Charlie took Lilium’s hand in his own and led her away from the crowd, shooting uneasy looks at Mother. The blonde child bravely stepped toward the woman, “Shall we wait until we try again?”  
She whirled her head around the look at the child, her neck cracking loudly, “We will not wait!” She turned towards a short old lady and spoke calmly, “Who is next?”  
The elder’s face was leathery and wrinkled, but her bright eyes looked young. She stood leaning against a wooden walking stick, her knobbly knuckles white around it. She paused for a moment before replying to Mother, “Rosaline Clifton, my lady.”