Changeling Justice

by Frank Hurt

  “I’m sorry, Mummy.” Fabricating such a simple lie to her mother shouldn’t have made her feel so guilty. She had experience covering up the truth for years, after all; she heeded Wallace’s warning on her Test Day and never divulged her true skills, not even to her parents. For all they knew, she was just a run-of-the-mill Investigator, of no exceptional note beyond being their second daughter.

  Ember doubled down on her story. For a dish of dishonesty to be palatable, the right blend of sincere spices must be added. “I guess I’m just exhausted. I’m working on too little sleep and too many pastries, I suppose. The staff at the embassy aren’t being very warm to someone from another country sent to audit their work.”

  “Mmhmm.” Ember’s mother sounded doubtful as she parsed the admission. “I’m not the Analytic in the family, but it sounds like you’re trying to tell me that the kids in school are being mean to you. Something tells me that there are a fair few more things to it, but I won’t jostle you.”

  Ember nodded against the phone, daring not to say anything. The breeze shifted, and her nostrils flared as molecules of chlorine burned her sinuses.

  Ember heard the muffled voices of her parents before her mother came back on the line. “Your father said to remind you that your room is always available whenever you wish to come home. Never believe you must stay where you’re not wanted—or where you don’t wish to stay, darling.”

  “Thank you, Mummy. Tell Daddy, too. I love you both. I’ll call again in a couple days. Goodnight.”

  She gently slipped the phone’s handset back into its hook. The braided steel line swayed, waving goodbye. Ember sniffled as she composed herself for the second number she knew she needed to dial.

  The phone rang several times. A clamor followed as the phone on the other end was picked up, dropped against a table, and then retrieved. “Livingston,” the gruff voice finally answered.

  “Hey, Wallace. It’s Ember.”

  “Ember, did you forget about the time difference? It’s…it’s after midnight sometime here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Ember sucked in a breath of air and exhaled slowly. “This is one report that can’t be sent by email though.”

  His voice was gentler this time. “Something’s wrong. Did you make contact with Duncan yet?”

  “Something’s wrong. Now that’s an understatement.” Ember laughed humorlessly. “God, Wallace, so much is wrong here. There’s something heavy happening here. I’m freaking out and I’m not too proud to say it.”

  “Wait—where are you calling me from?”

  She cradled the receiver between her ear and hunched shoulder so she could massage her throbbing temples. “I’m not in the office, nor using the mobile they gave me. Don’t worry. I’m at a public phone at a park.”

  “We have to be careful.”

  “I know.”

  “I want you to get another mobile before you check in again. Can you do that?” His voice was tighter than usual, stressed.

  Ember swallowed. “Yes, I can do that. I’ll figure it out.”

  “What can you tell me about my friend?”

  “We met. God, Wallace, there’s nothing right here.” She began recalling her conversation with Duncan. The darkness that surrounded her. She shivered, standing in the evening sunlight.

  “Ember, I need you to calm down. Are you safe?”

  “I’m not sure. I think so, for now.”

  “Tell me what you know.” His voice was lower, injected with a measure of calm—whether it was real or forced. The clink of ice cubes falling into a glass served as notification that he was pouring himself a scotch. He would soon be pacing in his study as they talked.

  “It started last night when one of the Associates dropped me off at my apartment.” A whimper snuck out as she remembered Roseanne, despite her will to stop it. “Have you ever encountered a…a disease that encases a person’s aura in a…in a shadow?”

  “What? Can you say that again? You know nobody literally sees the energy auras. It’s just a sense, a feeling.” Though he knew that Ember had the unique ability to visualize auras, Wallace was careful not to say it outright. He was always cautious.

  “Everyone in the office has this dark smudge on their aura. At least, the Investigators.”

  “Even Heywood?”

  “God, yes. Especially Heywood.” Ember shuddered. “I can’t even begin to describe it. He wouldn’t even talk to me at first. I had to formulate a reason to single him out. I had him look up some old case files under the auspices of the audit. When he got to one of the cases, his aura got…well it got violent, Wallace.”

  “Violent? Heywood? That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “No, not Heywood. He didn’t get violent. His aura did. Or some sort of shadow surrounding his aura, at least. The shadow surged and blotted the light in the room.” Ember closed her eyes, remembering. “When I looked in my periphery, I thought I saw him reach for me, through the shadow.”

  “It did what? That doesn’t make any sense.” Wallace sipped his whiskey. “You mentioned a case. What sort of case was it?”

  “It was an odd one, but quite interesting, of what I had access to read in the summation, anyway. It concerned ten changelings who had become disabled in 2001. I came across it by chance, but it gnawed on me, so I kept digging. This case coincided with an industrial accident that occurred around that same time.”

  Silence, but for the tinkling of ice against glass. Finally, he said, “I don’t know if it means anything or not, but since being elevated to the High Council I’ve done some digging on past reports from the colony. As best I can tell, the tenor of the reports began to change sometime after 2001. You may have intuitively come across a vital piece of that puzzle. That’s top-shelf investigative work, Ember.”

  “Thank you, sir. But honestly, Wallace, it was sheer luck. Good or bad, I’ve not decided.”

  “You know that we create our own luck. It’s not pure happenstance.”

  Ember bit her lip and nodded silently against the phone.

  Wallace continued. “I’m still troubled by Duncan’s voicemail message that prompted me to send you there. He sounded like he was drunk or choking, I don’t know. But, he cut off his message mid-word. Not mid-sentence, mid-word. When I called him back the next day, he claimed to have no knowledge of any phone call. He’s not returned my calls ever since. I thought that he might have been in some sort of trouble—blackmail of some sort.”

  “Something is wrong here, Wallace, but I don’t think that it’s blackmail. This friend of yours…whatever he was before, he’s not that man now. He is rude and standoffish. All of the Investigators are rude and standoffish, for that matter.”

  “There is more going on over there than I had thought. I knew something was wrong but had no idea it was this bad.” Melting ice shifted in his glass.

  “Wallace,” Ember summoned the courage to articulate her question. “This is all too big for me—for any one person to handle. I don’t think I can do this.”

  “I would go there myself were it not for my duties with the Druw High Council. I don’t mean to shame you into staying, and I see the folly now in sending you there by yourself. Even so, I have every confidence in your abilities, Ember. I trust no other Investigator like I trust you. With your skills, hell, I know of no other Investigator as bloody competent as you are. I need—”

  “I wish I had never agreed to this assignment. If I knew then what I know now, I would never have come here.” Her thoughts given voice, there was no going back now. “I can’t stay, Wallace. I just can’t.”

  More silence, and then his voice was quiet, the disappointment unmistakable. “Alright, Ember. I’ll bring you home if that’s what you wish.”

  She hesitated a moment as the relief made her knees weak. “I’m sorry, Wallace. I’m sorry. Please, yes.”

  “Give me a few days so I can figure out who I can send out to relieve you.”

  Ember closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her
nose between two fingers. “A few days?”

  “I need to find someone I can trust who can replace you out there. You can’t expect me to just drop an investigation because an agent can’t handle it.” Wallace’s words stung.

  “A few days. Brilliant.” Ember swallowed. “I’m really sorry, Wallace.”

  She didn’t know which hurt worse—the sound of her former partner’s disappointment, or the fact that he hung up without saying goodbye.

  10

  A Shark’s Grin

  A scream startled Ember awake.

  Her eyelids snapped open. She cautiously scanned the darkened, unfamiliar apartment as consciousness returned. Her throat was painfully dry when she swallowed—evidence that the scream she had just emitted in her sleep was real.

  Awareness trickled slowly like a leaky faucet. She was drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her face and her favorite pajamas clinging to her damp skin.

  “Bloody hell.” Ember groaned into her hands as the echo of her nightmare lingered. “I can’t do this. How am I going to keep it together for a few more days?”

  She willed herself out of bed, glancing at the digital clock. It assured Ember that she had plenty of time for a morning run before work. Neither jogging nor returning to the embassy held any appeal to her.

  The small kitchen table retained evidence of the night’s stress eating. She had wiped out her precious supply of Marmite from home—both small jars eaten in one sitting. It was a new personal gluttony record, and she was feeling it. There was no point in rationing the treat, not when she would be returning to England soon.

  She ran the water scalding hot in her shower. Standing beneath the torrent, she imagined the water cleansing her mind of the troubling dream of a shadowy figure chasing her down a hallway. Thinking about it only served to reinforce the mental image. She stood and thought of home, of being away from whatever disease was plaguing the Magic City. Mysteries be damned, it wasn’t worth contracting whatever that shadow was.

  Feeling some semblance of being refreshed following the shower, her stomach started to rumble. You’d think I wouldn’t be so hungry after pilfering the cupboards last night.

  The Sweet & Flour would be open for business soon, and it was just too convenient to pass up. She had just a couple more days to enjoy their fresh offerings, so she reasoned that she should enjoy them while she could.

  On the way out of her apartment and to the elevator, she noticed a newspaper and a small package outside her neighbor’s door. The items must have been delivered overnight, as neither had been there the night before. Always too curious, Ember peered at the address label. M. Anderle. Are you Druwish, I wonder? Man, or woman? Did I wake you with my scream? You must think your new neighbor is a nutter.

  When she returned ten minutes later clinging to a bag of pastries, the package and newspaper were already gone.

  It was still too early when Ember drew the courage to walk to The Parker building. She intended on lingering in the Magic City Spa, hoping to visit with Josette. She was desperate to see a friendly face without an infected aura.

  Ember waved to the receptionist in the lobby. “Hello, Ami. I don’t suppose Josette is in yet?”

  The dark-skinned girl wore her hair differently than the last time Ember had seen her. The girl narrowed her eyes and held out her index finger. “Let’s see…English accent, asking for the manager. You wouldn’t happen to be Emberly, by chance?”

  Ember blinked. Is this some sort of jest? We already met!

  “Um…yes.” Ember spoke slowly. “I’m fairly sure we’ve already met. It was two nights ago.”

  Ami shrugged, “Sorry if that’s so. We get a lot of people coming through here. I’m sure I would have remembered if we had. Anyway, I’ll show you to Josette’s office.”

  The general manager’s office was cramped. One wall was covered by a whiteboard with dry erase notes scrawled across. Yellow sticky notes clung to the edges of Josette’s computer monitor, forming a cheerful border.

  “Oy! Honey, you look even worse than when you got in.” Josette’s espresso brown eyes narrowed with worry. “Are you doing alright?”

  Ember offered a reluctant smile. “It’s been a rough 24 hours I guess.”

  “I guess!” Josette echoed. “No offense, but you look like you were out all night. Are you getting into the party scene or something? Never mind, that’s your business. Oh, honey, you missed a button on your blouse. A couple buttons.”

  Ember blushed and fumbled to fix her attire. “I didn’t really look in the mirror yet today, I suppose.”

  “How’s the apartment working out for you? Did you notice that there’s a bakery in the same building?”

  “It’s been brilliant, thank you.” Ember held up the takeout bag from the bakery. “I’ve been enjoying their products perhaps a little too much.”

  Josette grinned. “Aren’t they the best? I just love their kolaches. Have you tried them yet?”

  “Kolaches? No, I don’t know what they are, but I will ask for them next time. I’ve been gorging on their muffins. In fact, why don’t you take this from me. You would be doing me a favor.”

  The curly-haired woman needed no convincing. She dug into the bag and mumbled her gratitude around a mouthful of cake.

  Ember sunk into the one available visitor’s chair in the small office. A shiny blue-and-white helmet occupied the other chair—the same helmet Josette was cradling when they met. “What sort of motorbike do you own?”

  Josette became animated. “I’ve got a 2005 Harley Softtail Deluxe. It’s sort of my pride and joy. Do you ride?”

  “Oh, no! I would absolutely kill myself. I already have a problem with stairs. I think I’d be pressing my luck driving anything that didn’t come with an airbag and safety belts.”

  “Honey, you never know until you try! If you ever feel like you want to try it, give me a holler. It’s a great way to travel.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “So, I know you’re just working as a massage therapist in the spa as your cover job, but I’m really eager to get you in here.” Josette brushed crumbs from her desk and into the wastebasket. “We do accept NonDruw clients, but of course the real draw is for Druws. As with all Druwish spas the world over, we’re built atop a Ley Line, and the mana it produces has some wonderful healing benefits.”

  “Where is the Ley Line for this spa, exactly?”

  “Oh, that’s down in the subbasement, but it’s off-limits, other than to the upper-level mucky-mucks and security personnel. When we need Leystones charged, we send them down with someone from security. Every crystal has to be accounted for since they are so valuable. Of course, if there’s dire need for intensive healing we can appeal to Higginbotham.”

  “I don’t believe I know that name,” Ember admitted.

  “He’s the Director of Wellness for the colony. I do hope you will get a chance to meet him. He’s such a nice guy, always so helpful and supportive.”

  Helpful and supportive. That would be an exception among Malverns around here. Ember wondered if he might be able to provide information about the Mandaree case. “Brilliant. I’ll be sure to give him a call today.”

  Josette grinned. “Brilliant. Well, I’ve got to make my rounds before things get too crazy around here. Thank you for the cupcake.”

  The elevator ride was solo, which afforded Ember a chance to give herself a pep talk. “Just a bloody few more days to work the assignment. You can do this.”

  “’Ello, Guv’ner!” The bubbly third-floor front desk receptionist waved with such enthusiasm, Ember almost took a step back into the elevator. “How was that for matching your accent? Pretty close, huh? I’ve been working on it since last night. I think my true calling is to be a voice actor. You know, those cartoon voices for, like, cartoons and stuff? ‘Ello, Guv’ner!’ And ‘top O’ the mornin’ to you, lassie!’ I guess that was a little bit Irish that time. I probably need to practice a little more. Or, oh, a wee
bit more, as you might say.”

  Ember waited for a pause in Joy’s stream-of-conscious monologue. Seeing none, she finally interrupted. “That’s brilliant, Joy. But keep practicing, yeah?”

  Joy beamed. “You really think so? Oh, I will! I will.”

  “Oh, Joy, I have a favor to ask, if you would be so kind? Could you put a call in to the Director of Wellness for me, please? I would like to set up a meeting with him at his earliest convenience. Anytime in the next couple days would be lovely.”

  “That would be Director Higginbotham. He’s such a nice man! You will just love him, I’m sure. Everyone does. His office is on the Sixth Floor.” Joy picked up the phone and began rapidly punching numbers. She held her hand over the receiver and adopted her crude parody of an English accent. “I’ll set the meeting up right away, Guv’ner. It’ll be just two shakes of a squirrel’s tail.”

  “Thanks. Let me know what you find out, please. ‘Two shakes of a squirrel’s tail.’ I’m stealing that one, just so you know.” Ember shook her head and chuckled as she walked to her office, avoiding the break room where the other Investigators gathered. The pure silliness of the changeling girl’s manner helped lift the mood and there was no need to have it dampened by facing those people again.

  If she could make it through the next few days with minimal time around the other Investigators, that would be for the best. Ember powered up the embassy-provided desktop computer on the grey steel desk in her makeshift office. If she could find an excuse to stay away from the office while still pursuing the Mandaree Incident case, that would be ideal. She began formulating a plan to do just that.

  She would need to pull from the database the names and addresses of the ten changelings designated as disabled in 2001. She would then meet with them—at their homes, away from the embassy—and interview them. She could do all this under the auspices of the census audit. Nobody would be the wiser.

  Ember logged into the embassy system and began searching the records in 2001 for all references to Mandaree. Her screen displayed: