Weald Fae 02 - The Changeling

by Christopher Shields

  “Of course.” Sara dismissed the intrusion as nothing more than a friendly handshake.

  Ozara’s burning amber eyes focused on me and I began to tremble. In truth, I was worried that the process might hurt, and I was terrified that she might gain access to all of my thoughts—that would be terrible. Nonetheless, I managed to exhale and extend my shaking hand. It was impossible to know whether hiding my thoughts would be effective, but I did it anyway. I continued to let her see and feel calmness, even if it was completely manufactured. She smiled broadly and took my hand.

  Her grip was light, her hand warm. She caressed my cheek with the back of her hand and I shuddered despite trying hard not to. She didn’t put her hand to my temple, though. She sat back in the seat, and laughed lightly.

  “Maggie, I still haven’t found your brother. I apologize. I’ll leave you now and continue my search.”

  With that, she was gone.

  “Sara, what just happened?”

  “Let me drive you home—I’ll explain on the way.”

  The headlights cut a narrow swath out of the dark night, illuminating the road back to Eureka. I fought exhaustion as Sara drove me to the Weald. I thought about Billy leaving us there with Ozara, but I couldn’t blame him. I would have too.

  Though numb and weary, my mind refused to quit trying to put the pieces in place from all that I had learned tonight. Independent clans? A Maebown ancestor? Each new piece of information lifted the veil just a little higher, though I still couldn’t see the entire picture. Added to that was my confusion over what I perceived to be Ozara’s paranoia. I wanted to know what it was I witnessed.

  “What did Ozara do and why did she do that to you and Billy?”

  Sara exhaled, wringing the steering wheel in her hands, and with a quick glance, our eyes met for a split second before she stared back at the oncoming road. “Ozara simply wanted to know the content of our conversations.”

  “She can do that?”

  “Yes,” Sara said.

  The images of Ozara placing her hands on Billy’s head and then Sara’s came flooding back into my mind. It was appalling and struck me as a disgusting act, a violent assault.

  “Why didn’t she do that to me?”

  “There was no need, she had our thoughts. Be glad that was the case.” Sara’s eyes fell from the road for a moment before she looked back up. “The Aetherfae can read the thoughts of other Fae with little effort. To resist…that would be foolish. Human thoughts are much more challenging for her—yours are probably safe given how well you can shield yourself.”

  “She doesn’t trust us, does she?”

  “No, Ozara doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “Why? Why treat her own kind, her allies, that way? What good could come of it?”

  “Have you ever wondered about the scarred Fae?”

  “Yes.”

  “They betrayed their own kind and that is why Ozara trusts none of us.”

  Sara told me that the Seelie Council and the Unseelie Elders punished the scarred Fae, those who looked like Chalen, for a plot they’d been involved in between the first and second Fae wars some four thousand years ago. A band of independents and Unseelie had joined forces and gone rogue. They tried to destroy Ozara, the Council, and the Unseelie Elders in an attempt to live outside the accord. Because of that, the rules were put in place to keep the peace.

  She said that before the revolt was quelled, the rogues destroyed three members of the Unseelie Elders and two of the Seelie Council in southern England, in a place called Caer Bran in Cornwall. At the end of the conflict, the Seelie Council and the Unseelie Elders punished the rogues that remained by scarring them. Ozara used Aether to permanently alter their appearance, both in Naeshura and in natural form. The Aether also altered their perception of beauty.

  To the rogues, Sara explained, their scarred forms were desirable. The Aether rendered them utterly incapable of taking a physical form that any Fae or human might find attractive. Ozara labeled them Pyksies—Fae slang for hideous ones. Physically repulsive to ordinary Fae, the Pyksies served as a deterrent and a reminder to the independent clans of what happened when a Fae challenged the Seelie. Following a millennia of forcing them to live as outcasts, Ozara and Zarkus eventually allowed the Pyksies to rejoin the clans.

  After the second Fae war, and with an increased number of defections, Ozara began keeping a much closer watch on the Seelie even though none of them had been involved in the plot. Sara said that many Seelie found Ozara oppressive and dictatorial, driving more of them away from the clan. I understood how they felt.

  “Sara?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did she want to know?”

  “Her visit had many purposes. The first was to remind you that regardless of where you go she’s keeping tabs on your whereabouts. She also wants you to know that anything you say to us, and anything we say to you, is not going to remain private. Beyond that, she wanted to know two things in particular: whether either Billy or I had advised you on how to take the final trial, and especially whether we gave you instructions on how to create Aether. That secret rests with Ozara alone, and she wants make sure it stays that way. She also wanted to know how much we told you about Áedán.”

  I immediately knew why. “Ozara doesn’t want me to know how Áedán destroyed the other Aetherfae, does she?”

  “No, she does not. Not yet, anyway.”

  “But why? I wouldn’t use that knowledge against her.”

  “Maggie, you don’t trust her and she knows that. I think that concerns her more than anything—until tonight, I had no idea how concerned she really was. We deceived the Council, we hid your Water inclination for months, and Billy, who became your Treorai at my request, defected from the Seelie clan eighty years ago. Objectively speaking, I can see her point, and had I known she was so suspicious I would have never agreed to our road trip. We must be more careful.”

  “See her point? I suppose I can too, but that still doesn’t make it right. Do you know how Áedán destroyed the other Aetherfae?”

  She stared at the road as we cruised back through a darkened Eureka Springs at four o’clock in the morning. “No, I don’t, and that is precisely why Ozara left us alone tonight. As far as I’m aware, she alone knows how Áedán destroyed Dagda, the Second Aetherfae. Only the three beings really knew what happened, and two of them perished. It is a secret she’s kept to herself. Again, I didn’t realize how much all this has affected her until tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “Will Billy be okay? Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems like this bothered him more than you.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it did bother him more. I’m Seelie and somewhat accustomed to her intrusions—tonight is not the first time I’ve had to share my thoughts with her. Billy and the Seelie Council have a complicated history.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maggie, it’s not my place. When he’s ready, I’m sure he’ll tell you. Until then…”

  “Of course,” I interrupted, embarrassed that I’d even asked.

  ***

  The next morning, Drevek was worse. Mom was frantic when she couldn’t wake him for breakfast. I waited with her until the ambulance arrived, holding her hand as she quietly prayed. The paramedics took Drevek to the hospital in Fayetteville, where he remained in ICU for a day before he woke up. I’ll never forget how frantic my parents were until he opened his eyes, or how relieved they appeared when he muttered a few slurred words. With tears running down her face, Mom leaned over him and whispered that he’d be home soon and would get better. With one hand, Dad gently held Drevek’s, and with the other he caressed Drevek’s hair. It killed me to see them suffering like that, and it infuriated me that they were so completely deceived. Mitch was somewhere without loving parents, and he might be in worse shape. My anxiety grew.

  After several hours, and a lot of begging, Dad convinced Mom to go to the cafeteria with him. I stayed behind and sat with Drevek. Images of playing with Mitch in the
waves back in Florida looped in my mind, and I kept seeing his huge grin. As I listened to the sound of the machines droning in the background, my conviction to fight for my place in the Weald once again began to waver and I fought with my emotions—I was losing the battle.

  “Maggie?”

  Drevek’s voice startled me.

  “Yes,” I said wiping my eyes.

  He was staring at me, smiling. His voice was weak, but he wasn’t as bad as he’d been letting on.

  “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

  “What?” I nearly screeched.

  “I’m sorry that you and your parents are going through this.”

  I didn’t know what to say. There was a part of me that wanted to beat him senseless for his role in Mitch’s abduction, and that part was angry that he’d even tried to apologize. Another part, though, was caught off-guard and wanted to know why he was suddenly being nice. It didn’t make sense and I didn’t trust him.

  “I really don’t care if you’re sorry or not—it doesn’t change the fact that my brother is out there suffering.”

  “I know that. I would have never agreed if I had known how much all of you care about him.”

  I snapped at him. “Of course we care about him, are you an idiot?”

  “No, I just didn’t understand.”

  “But you do now? That’s convenient, and it’s a little late, don’t you think?” My anger was beginning to boil over.

  “It’s the truth.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked away.

  “I want to help you find him.”

  “What? That’s a lie,” I screamed at him. “Your kind wants all of us dead. I don’t believe you. Do you understand that?”

  “I’ve never spent time with humans before now. Those who mentored me were careful, Maggie, careful to show me only the ugliness of your kind, and there is plenty of that. Unlike any other species on this world, your kind destroys everything, even each other.” He struggled to hold back a coughing spasm.

  “The Unseelie recruited me before I learned to take physical form. They trained me for a century, but they lied.”

  “They lied. You expect me to believe it’s that simple? I’m not an expert on the Unseelie, but it seems to me that deception is a trait they cherish. I know you feed on human pain and suffering, so I know you’re enjoying every second of this.”

  “No, Maggie, I am not enjoying this, not now anyway. I admit, I did enjoy the pain and fear. It was everything Chalen said it would be and more. But I don’t enjoy it now and I genuinely want to help.”

  Through clenched teeth, I snarled at him. “I don’t believe you!”

  “My clan is willing to let me die. It’s clear to me they knew I would die and let me do this anyway. They’ve betrayed me. I know Ozara plans to end my existence. I’m afraid.” Tears welled up in Drevek’s eyes.

  “So?”

  “The only creatures who’ve shown me any compassion are your parents and you.”

  “That compassion is directed to Mitch, not you.”

  “You’re wrong. I know your parents don’t know the truth, but you do, and you’ve visited me several times, stroking my hair, talking to me.”

  “That’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it? Why didn’t you go with your parents just now?”

  “You’re right, maybe I should just go find them.”

  “Please don’t.” He was actually begging me.

  “Why?” my tone softened.

  “Maggie, I don’t want to be alone.” Again the tears welled in his eyes. “I’m afraid of dying and I don’t want to be alone. I’ve never experienced fear before, and until now, I’ve never feared for my life. I know what humans must go through when they face death—I would have never hurt you or anyone else had I known. I’m trapped in this body—I would have never hurt you or anyone else had I known fear—known what this felt like.”

  His voice was cracking and he seemed genuinely frightened. The pain in his voice hit me in the chest and the competing factions in my brain, compassion and loathing, tore at each other.

  “Please, Maggie.” He began to weep.

  I felt my eyes mist over and before I realized what I’d done, I’d taken his hand. “Okay, stop blubbering. If Mom and Dad come back in you’ll only make them worse.”

  He smiled at me and nodded.

  “I know I’m going to regret this,” I said more to myself than to him.

  “No, you won’t. I can help you save your brother.”

  “How? Ozara read your mind. She said you didn’t know anything.”

  There was a hint of fear in his eyes for a moment.

  “This is important. Can Ozara read you? She can with some humans, but others she…”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, cutting him off. “She’s had the opportunity on several occasions, but hasn’t.”

  “Is it true what they say, that you can block your thoughts from my kind?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must keep this a secret, Maggie. Do not tell any other Fae…not Billy or Sara. Promise me?”

  I was skeptical. My mind told me that Drevek was trying to set me up, but my gut told me to trust him. “Okay, I promise.”

  “Someone on the Council is working with us.”

  “I know that.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, we’ve suspected as much. Do you know who it is?”

  “No. Had I known, Ozara would have probably destroyed me that first night, and you’d likely have your brother back already. She could have forced the mole to talk.”

  “Why doesn’t she just take their thoughts, then?”

  “She cannot do that to a member of the Council—It is forbidden.”

  That was something I didn’t know.

  “Then how can you help me?”

  “To protect us both, and your brother, all I can say is get inside the cottage at the Seoladán, and go upstairs, back bedroom. Be careful with Cassandra—she’s dangerous.”

  “Why? What’s there?”

  “That’s all I can tell you. You’ll figure it out. You’re smart.”

  “What is it with the Fae and riddles? Can any of you just give a straight answer?”

  “Someone approaches. Thank you, Maggie.”

  Instantly, it was quiet in the room again. The drone of the equipment alone broke the silence. He closed his eyes, and his body went slack just before I heard the door open behind me.

  “Mags, would you mind a little company?” Candace’s voice was soft, just above a whisper.

  “Sure,” I whispered back.

  I was really glad to see her, even though I wanted to ask Drevek more questions. She walked around to the other side of the bed, bent over, and kissed Drevek on the forehead. “Is he getting any better?”

  I shook my head. She reached across him and took my hand. The scars on her wrists from Chalen’s attack were completely invisible. “I’m so sorry.”

  EIGHT

  SEOLADÁN

  Drevek didn’t come back home—his fever grew worse. After an MRI, the doctors concluded that he had viral encephalitis, though they were still unable to determine what virus was causing the illness. They gave him corticosteroids to reduce the brain swelling, and antiviral medication to try to pull him through. A week had gone by and he’d slipped into a coma. I didn’t know whether the coma was real or not, but Drevek didn’t respond when I pleaded with him. Though I didn’t like it, there wasn’t a choice—I would have to visit the cottage at the Seoladán without any additional information, and without Billy or Sara.

  Mom and Dad spent all their time at the hospital, and they were going back the morning I planned my mission to the cottage. I was up before them and made breakfast. Both were exhausted when they came to the kitchen—I don’t think either managed to sleep the night before. Dad had the same worrisome look, the one he had when Aunt May was murdered, and I worried about him. So I begged Sara to stay close to them until we got Mitch back,
and she agreed, generating a sense of calm and hope for them both.

  Mom walked to the sink and stared out the diamond-paned window. The sun streamed inside, filling the end of the kitchen, as she stood there silently gathering her composure. “Grandma Sophie and Grandpa Vic are coming to stay with us for a little while. They’re going to help us out until Mitch gets better.”

  The positive note in her comment, until Mitch gets better, was a good sign, and I hoped she could cling to that a little longer.

  “Oh, Mom, that’s great news! When will they get here?”

  I loved them. My maternal grandparents, Victor and Sophie Gutiérrez, lived in Miami, and we hadn’t seen them since we moved. My grandfather was a first-generation Cuban immigrant. His dad, Papa Gutiérrez, as Mom called him, had worked for the Batista government before the Cuban Revolution in the fifties. Papa Gutiérrez was nothing more than a low-level administrator with the government, but when the revolution went badly, he feared that his work with the Batista Government would put his family in danger. Because of that, he and my great grandmother fled with Grandpa Vic in 1959. He was just a boy at the time, but he remembered it well and loved telling stories about Havana, and his hometown of Santiago.

  Grandpa Vic was slightly shorter than me, but stocky, and he spoke English with the most wonderful accent—it was a calling card of sorts that he refused to change. His family struggled in Miami the first few years after the move, but they made a great life for themselves in the US. I wasn’t sure how he was going to like Arkansas, but I couldn’t wait to see him.

  “Next week,” Mom said, answering me.

  I could hear the smile in Mom’s voice and I was excited. As much as I loved my grandpa, I was even happier that I would get to see Grandma Sophie. Grandma was one of a kind, and she was my confidant. Always smiling, her teeth were the biggest I’ve ever seen—her smile was one that you had to return. She was Irish and very proud of it. That made for an interesting dynamic between her and Grandpa.

  Grandma moved to Tallahassee in the 1960s and attended Florida State where she met Grandpa while she studied sociology and he, economics. After a quick courtship, they married and moved back to Miami after graduation. While they had both mellowed over the years, Grandma was a fiery liberal and Grandpa a staunch anti-communist conservative—they were proof that opposites do attract. He always said he overlooked her kooky worldviews because she was the most caring person he’d ever met. She said she took pity on his learning disability and wasn’t willing to let him go it alone in the world until he could learn to think for himself. The joking aside—and they joked all the time—they fit together perfectly.