A thin man with graying hair and round glasses waved at me with a hand over his head when I reached the top. He was standing under a lone tree that had grown on the top of the hill, the only tree left in the whole cemetery. The rest had been removed to make space for the dead.
I lifted my hand in a wave, and then touched it to my hair. I’d pulled it back to look professional. I made sure my glamour was still in place and smiled. Fae take on different forms. Some of them look very human, with just a few differences. My eyes are naturally purple. My hair is white like snow. My skin is the color of caramel. If I use my glamour, I become a brown-eyed blonde.