13 Treasures

by Michelle Harrison

  Tanya bit back tears and a torrent of abuse.

  “What are you going to do with the baby… sell him? Hold him for ransom?”

  “Neither. He was abandoned in the first place, so who’d pay the ransom? And selling him would be impossible given that it’s probably been all over the news.”

  The baby began to howl again. Tanya jumped at the sudden noise. It was a horrible, gurgling wail. “Can’t you stop him from crying?”

  “We’ll be gone in a minute.”

  The child screamed even louder. This time even the redheaded girl flinched. For a moment she paused, then reluctantly stopped what she was doing and looked up.

  She gave a small cry and flew to the bed.

  From between the folds of the blanket the child’s hand was visible. Blood ran in rivulets from minute crescents in the baby’s palm: he had pierced his own skin with his fingernails. At the girl’s touch, the shrieks subsided as he was comforted. The girl wrapped him up tightly and gathered him in the crook of her arm. On her other shoulder she hoisted the bag. She strode over to Tanya.

  “I’ll need a couple of hours before I notify anyone of your whereabouts. I’m warning you again—don’t try to follow me. If you get lost down here you will die.” She tossed a blanket on the floor. “Here. You’ll need this to keep warm.”

  Tanya did not answer her. She was staring at the child, lying quietly in the girl’s arms. It was the moment that changed everything. The moment when she saw the child for what it truly was.

  The child stared back at her, unblinking. What happened next turned her stomach with fear. As the baby watched her its features warped and then morphed. The tips of the ears elongated and pointed and the skin took on a greenish hue. The eyes in their entirety flooded black, as if with ink, sparkling eerily. All this in the briefest of moments before the ghoulish vision was gone—but Tanya knew what she had seen.

  And so did the redheaded intruder.

  “You saw.” Her voice was a throaty whisper.

  Tanya lowered her eyes to the thing in the girl’s arms and swallowed a scream.

  “I don’t believe it,” the girl murmured, eyes fixed on Tanya. “You saw. You can see them too.”

  Tanya stared back. A moment of clarity and quiet understanding passed between them as the girl whispered something softly.

  “You have the second sight.”

  Tanya recoiled. “Who are you?”

  There was a short pause.

  “You can call me Red.”

  Tanya nodded toward the fairy child. “What are you doing with that baby?”

  “Good question,” Red replied. “Sit. I’ll tell you my story. I’m sure it’s one you’ll find interesting.”

  12

  Red leaned across the table, her eyes fixed on the candle. Light and shadow flickered across her face as she held her hands to the warmth of the flame. Numbly, Tanya watched her pale, slender fingers moving up and down, absorbing the heat as gracefully as a butterfly would dance in the sunlight. They looked like they should belong to a pianist. Or an artist or a musician. The reality now seemed quite different.

  She did not trust the girl an inch.

  “How did you get past Oberon?” Tanya whispered tentatively. “I… I don’t get it. He would’ve barked.”

  “The dog? That was easy. He did start to growl the first time I got into the kitchen, but after a few scraps of food we were practically best friends.”

  Tanya’s eyes widened in fear. “You’d better not have… have—”

  “What? Drugged him? Poisoned him?” Red finished. “No. I’m not lying. I bribed him with food. Simple. And anyway, I happen to like animals. A lot more than I like people, that’s for sure.”

  Tanya did not react.

  “So,” said Red. “You’ve never met anyone else with the second sight before. That much is obvious.”

  Tanya dared to look up. It did not feel as if what was happening was reality.

  “I always thought… hoped there must be others,” she said at last. “But I don’t think I ever allowed myself to believe it, not fully.”

  “There are plenty of others,” said Red. “Just like I was. Just like you. All thinking they’re alone, abnormal. A freak. It takes time to recognize the signs, but you’ll pick up on them eventually. You’ll learn to see when someone shares your ability.”

  “But why?” Tanya asked shakily.

  Red narrowed her eyes. “Why what?”

  “Why can we see them? Who are we? What are we?”

  “Do you know what a changeling is?”

  A feeling of dread engulfed Tanya as she recalled the passage from the book in the library. “It’s a child that’s been stolen by fairies.”

  Red nodded. “The stolen human child is replaced by a fairy child, often with similar characteristics. Usually, the children are too young to be told apart. It probably wouldn’t be recognized by anyone other than the mother, and even then it’s not always noticed.”

  Red cast her eyes upon the baby, now sleeping peacefully. “They like to take the ones that won’t be easily missed: orphans, or babies that are abandoned. By the time he was found, the switch had most likely taken place already.” Red got up and began to pace the cavern, clearly agitated.

  “The human child will be long gone by now; vanished into the fairy realm. Sometimes they get brought back, sometimes not. It all depends on the reason they were taken in the first place. Sometimes they’re replacements for fairy children that are born sick, or ugly. A healthy fairy child may be traded in for an exceptional human child: one that will grow up to be beautiful, or possess a rare gift or talent.

  “Sometimes they’re taken for no reason other than to cause havoc and misery.” She spat the last three words and Tanya flinched. “Whatever the motive, the more time that passes after the switch, the less likely it is that either child will ever find their way back. It will be obvious early on whether they can adapt or not.”

  “What happens if they don’t adapt?”

  “A human child will usually be returned, more often than not to the same place it was taken from. But with a fairy child it’s not quite so simple.” Red closed her eyes tightly for a long moment. “Again, it depends on the circumstances. Mainly on whether the glamour lasts or not. In this case I’m guessing it probably won’t.” She paused again. “Do you know what glamour is, or do I have to explain that as well?” she said sarcastically.

  “No… I mean yes,” Tanya stuttered. “I know what glamour is.”

  Red nodded toward the child. “What you see there is what appears to be a human child. Yet you glimpsed—the same way I could—what really lies beneath. And the only reason you and I could see that is purely because we have the second sight and because the glamour is not one of the child’s own creation.

  “An ordinary person wouldn’t know any different unless it wears off. Then they’d see exactly what we saw. The child would be exposed for what it really is, as it doesn’t have the knowledge or ability to protect itself. And I can’t let that happen.”

  “What… what would happen to it?”

  “What do you think?” Red hissed. “If people saw him for what he really is? He’d be taken away! Put under observation in a laboratory somewhere—analyzed, poked, prodded, and experimented on. Just like they all are.” Her voice weakened. “It’s what humans do. If something’s different. If we don’t understand it. Once they go in those labs… well. They never come out. And it’s all hushed up by people high up.”

  “You mean… you mean he’d probably die in a laboratory somewhere, being experimented on?” Tanya choked.

  “More than likely.” Red’s face was as hard as her voice. “So now you know why I did what I did. Why I do what I do.”

  Tanya closed her eyes. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

  Red shook her head slowly, her catlike eyes unblinking as she studied Tanya. “It won’t be the last, either.”

  “It… it happened to you, didn’
t it?” Tanya said quietly. “They took someone close to you. Someone you loved.”

  Red nodded. “James,” she whispered. “My little brother.”

  Tanya averted her gaze as Red’s eyes clouded. “So what happens now?”

  “I wait.”

  “For what?”

  “To see if the glamour on this child is one that’s intended to last.”

  “How soon will you know?” Tanya asked.

  “If it’s only a superficial glamour—not intended to last—it’ll weaken and show signs of the child’s true nature very quickly. It could be anything from a couple of hours to a few days. A week at the most.”

  “What sort of signs?”

  “The eyes will be the first to change,” said Red. “They start to go dull until eventually they’re completely black. The ears will be next, lengthening and pointing. Then finally the skin will take on a greenish hue. These are the changelings that take priority. It’s essential that they’re returned to the fairy realm as soon as possible.”

  “And if the glamour isn’t superficial?”

  “Then the illusion will have been created to last a lifetime. Although the fairy children may look every part human, there will be certain… unusual qualities about them. Despite their best attempts to mimic human behavior, they’ll be seen as different. In addition to this, the lifespan of changelings in either instance will vastly vary from the norm. A human living in the fairy realm will surpass the average life expectancy by many years, whereas a fairy living in the mortal world will have a much shorter life.”

  “How much shorter?”

  Red smiled a wry little smile.

  “They are lucky to live much beyond their thirties. Just old enough to have settled down, started a family perhaps.” She paused before adding, “A family with a human. Which brings me to your question: what are we?”

  At this Tanya’s heart began to thump.

  “Are you starting to catch on yet?”

  Tanya gave a dry swallow.

  “I think so. You’re saying that we’re… people like us, we’ve…”

  “Somewhere along the line, someone in your family—and mine—was switched. Someone was a changeling. It could be from either side; your mother’s or father’s. The second sight comes from having fairy blood. Like a gene, it won’t occur in all of the changeling’s descendants. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s rare. It’s like having blue eyes, for example. They wouldn’t be passed down to every member of a family, just some of them. It’s like that with the second sight.”

  “Fairy blood,” Tanya repeated, stunned. “Fairy blood.” Instinctively she knew it to be true, along with everything else Red had told her. Fairy blood ran through her veins.

  “So… now you know what you are,” said Red. She glanced at a watch on her wrist, and gathered up her bag once more. “The sun will be rising soon. I need to leave.”

  Tanya watched her, trying to digest the sickening truth that she had just been fed. It swam inside her uneasily, like oil on water. For so long now, she had yearned for someone to believe her; for someone to understand. For even longer she had craved information. Knowledge, she knew, was power. And this girl—this strange, unbalanced girl whose obsession with the loss of her brother had driven her to these acts of desperation—had given her both. And Tanya knew that she could not afford to let her leave.

  “Wait,” said Tanya. “I…” She trailed off.

  Red stopped moving. “Something you want to say to me?”

  “I believe you,” Tanya said quietly. “Everything you’ve told me. I believe it.”

  “What makes you think I care?”

  “Because the fact that I believe you means that you don’t have to run—not yet,” said Tanya, an idea forming in her mind.

  Something ignited behind Red’s eyes; a small spark of interest.

  “Go on,” she said quietly.

  “You need to lie low. People are looking for you… the police. It’s been all over the news. I’m the only one who knows that you’re here. And if I keep quiet, then nobody else will find out. I can help you.”

  “Why would you want to help me?” Red asked, suspicion all over her face.

  Tanya looked at the changeling. “Because I know you don’t mean him any harm. And because you have something that I want.”

  Red stared at her incredulously. “What could you possibly want from me?”

  “Information,” said Tanya. “You know things… things about fairies. I want you to share them with me. If you do then I won’t tell anyone that I’ve seen you. I’ll keep you a secret. And I can bring you food and water—you won’t have to risk being seen in the house. With a bit of planning, you might even be able to sneak a shower.”

  At the mere mention of a shower Red’s eyes took on a hungry look.

  “A hot shower,” she whispered. “Sounds like heaven.” She lowered her head toward her armpit and sniffed suspiciously. “And is long overdue.” Her eyes snapped back to Tanya. “If I agree then there’s something else. If you want information, it’ll cost you. I’ll need you to do something for me.”

  “Like what?”

  From her pocket Red pulled out a small piece of paper. “I need what’s on this list. As many items as you can get. When you bring food and the items, leave them behind the passage opening where you got in. Don’t come into the tunnels. If I hear anyone down here then I’ll assume you’ve ratted me out—and I’ll leave. Once you’ve got me the items I’ll give you information. And then I’m out of here.”

  “All right,” said Tanya, warily. “But in return, you keep out of the house until I say so. Stay down here, out of sight, until I say it’s all clear for you to come up. I’ll put food in the passage but you can come up when I’ve got the stuff on the list.”

  Red nodded curtly and held out the list. Tanya took it from her filthy, clammy hand.

  “I’ll take you back,” said Red. “It’s quite a way through the tunnels—and it’s not the same way we left the house either.”

  “How did you find out about the secret passages in this house?” Tanya asked. “By accident?”

  “No. Someone told me about them, someone I trust. I have a number of contacts—people doing the same thing as me. We swap information about hideouts such as these. There are quite a few, dotted all over the country. Houses, churches, inns. Some of them, like this house, are connected to others a short distance away.”

  “I heard that there’s a tunnel linking the house to a pub in Tickey End, and one leading to the church,” said Tanya. “Is that true?”

  “Yes. I got in through the one at the church. The entrance is through a grave.”

  “A grave?”

  “It’s a fake. Nobody was ever buried there. It was constructed solely as an entrance to the tunnels.”

  Tanya stood up. “Are all the tunnels one-way? Either into or out of the house?”

  “No. Just one. The others go both ways. The only reason the one behind the bookcase doesn’t is because of a fault. It was meant to allow access to the house from the tunnels too.”

  “So where’s the way back in?” Tanya asked, clasping her arms about herself for warmth.

  “The quickest way from here leads to a room up on the first floor: a guest room that was never intended for use. Because of that, the door has no lock. The way in is through a tiny crawl space in a section of the wooden wall paneling. We’ll go that way.”

  Red moved off toward the opening in the cavern that led to the tunnel. As they approached, she stopped abruptly and spun around to face Tanya.

  “There’s something I forgot to mention. Something that might change your mind.”

  “What?” Tanya asked.

  “The fact that you’re helping me,” said Red. “The fairies aren’t going to like it. They aren’t going to like it at all.”

  “How are they going to find out?”

  “Surely you’re not that naive?” Red hissed. She gestured wildly to the darkness surrou
nding them. “They’re probably here, now. Watching.”

  “I can protect myself,” said Tanya. “I’m not afraid.”

  Red eyed her with an expression that was half admiring and half scornful. Wordlessly, she spun around so her back was to Tanya, pulled her thick, tangled hair aside, then reached behind and yanked the neck of her dress down so the top of her back was exposed.

  Even in the poor light, the shape of the girl’s spine jutting through her flesh was clear to see. On her skin, at the top center of her back, Tanya could make out an ugly, burnlike mark that was about the size of a fist. It was not just any mark. The silvery scar tissue was in an oddly familiar shape: a set of wings. Fairy wings. They had been branded into the skin.

  At Tanya’s horrified gasp, Red pulled her dress back into place and turned back around to face her. “This is what happened when I made the mistake of underestimating them,” she said bitterly. “I consider myself lucky to have escaped with only this scar.”

  “H-how… did you get that?” Tanya asked, all attempts at bravery gone.

  “I hope for your sake you never have to find out,” Red said grimly. “If you’re not afraid of them, then you should be.”

  13

  Avoiding Fabian the following day was to prove more difficult than Tanya anticipated. Since her discovery of Red and the knowledge of the truth behind her ability, Tanya now had her own agenda, and it was one that did not involve Fabian or his plans to go gallivanting in the woods.

  When she finally came out of her room shortly after midday, stiff and exhausted, the first thing on her mind was to find out who the changeling in her family might have been—and she had no idea where to start. She wondered who had been switched: someone from her mother’s side of the family, or her father’s, and whether they had lived many years ago—or whether it was someone alive now, someone she knew. This possibility disturbed her deeply.

  Her second concern was the list of items that Red had asked her to get. This, she knew, was going to be problematic, for she only had a few pounds left over from what she’d spent in Tickey End. Unless she figured out a way of getting some more money then she would have to risk filching most of the items from around the house, and this would take time and planning. Until the list was complete, there was little Tanya could do except supply Red with food and water through the passage behind the bookcase.