The Changeling

by Jennifer Lyndon

  “In all this time, you’ve never looked at anyone else,” she said. “You must know my eyes are always on you. I watch you. You don’t notice anyone. At least you smile at me, and sometimes you allow me to hold your hand,” she said. “I think you feel more for me than you realize,” she added.

  “Possibly, but I will always be in love with M’Tek,” I said gently.

  “I can live with that,” she said, as she caught the hem of my dress and began lifting it. For one confusing moment the brush of her fingers against my thighs was welcome. Reacting against that thought, I pushed my chair back quickly, and stood, moving away from my friend. She watched me, nearly laughing at my reaction. She was on her feet in an instant, heading me off at the door to my office.

  “Wait, Lore!” she said, stepping in front of me, still smiling.

  “Pet’Wyn, do not block my path,” I said firmly. “You’re about to make me angry.”

  “Please, don’t be angry, beautiful,” she whispered. “You’re still not ready. I understand. I moved too quickly. It’s all right. I’ll be more patient, my sweet girl.”

  “I will never be ready for anyone but M’Tek to touch me in that way,” I said. “I haven’t made myself clear before. I take the blame for that, and apologize. But you must hear me now. I will never love anyone else the way I love M’Tek,” I said. “I will never touch another the way I’ve touched her, or kiss another the way I’ve kissed her. You are extremely important to me. I do love you, but I will never share my bed with you.”

  “Don’t say that. It’s not true, Lore. You didn’t die with her,” Pet said, as if comforting me. “You walk through your life almost as much a ghost as she is. You’re warm with your children, and you effectively accomplish the work of ruling the two sovereignties, but you haven’t lived since she died.”

  “M’Tek isn’t a ghost,” I said before I could stop myself. “She’s not dead, Pet.”

  “Of course she’s dead,” Pet replied gently. I shook my head.

  “No, Pet, she’s not,” I said more firmly. “Think about it for just a moment. Why would I receive the witch in my home, the home I shared with M’Tek? Why did I end the war so suddenly? You said yourself, I was angry when I went to parlay with the witch, but I came down from the pass different, no longer angry, but sad. Why do you think that is?”

  Pet’s gaze widened, as her smile faded from her face. “But it’s simply not possible, Lore. Can you hear what you’re saying? Did the witch claim my cousin lives? She’s deceiving you,” Pet argued. “If my cousin lived, no cell would hold her. She’d have returned to you and her daughters years ago,” she added. “Queen M’Tek of Faeland would never allow herself to be captured alive, and she certainly wouldn’t wait for you to negotiate her release.”

  “I’m not getting into a debate with you about why M’Tek hasn’t returned,” I said cautiously. “I’m only trying to make you understand. As long as she lives, I belong to her.”

  “You can’t truly believe she’s alive,” Pet argued. “It’s irrational.”

  “I know she’s alive,” I replied. Pet watched me with a combination of concern and pity in her beautiful eyes. She thought I still refused to face the reality of my loss. “Don’t look at me that way, Pet,” I said, growing incensed. “It may sound unbelievable to you, but I’m not deluding myself. Soon this nightmare will be over, and you’ll understand.”

  “What does Sim’Nu want from you?” Pet asked soberly.

  “She wants me to take another consort, a Noge nobleman. She’ll tell me which one tomorrow. She wants the Noge royal line continued,” I explained.

  “You’ve already continued the line,” Pet said. “You have two beautiful, healthy daughters.”

  “The witch doesn’t want my throne to pass to offspring with Fae blood,” I said.

  “You don’t plan to give in to her simply because of this irrational belief that she holds my cousin?” Pet snapped, defensively.

  “Of course not,” I replied. “But for the moment, I have to appease the witch. I hope you’ll help me tomorrow.”

  “I’ll do anything you ask of me,” she replied. “You know that, Lore.”

  -CH 23-

  I waited alone, in quiet fury on the front steps of Lareem Palace as Sim’Nu approached along the entryway. I hated the witch with a depth that frightened me, but it was the sight of Kieran at the witch’s side, astride my beloved Sabea, that was at the root of my rage in that moment. My eyes followed the once luminous, but now dull, yellow coat of my horse as they advanced. Sabea was too thin, her ribs protruding, her belly distended from malnourishment and parasites, and her pale hooves deeply cracked and jagged. Her once soulful brown eyes appeared clouded and empty, encrusted with dark goo and gnats. Her coat was course and uneven and marked with scars from the use of spurs along her sides. My adored horse had suffered at the hands of her captures throughout these past four years. Though raging inside, I forced a neutral smile when Sim’Nu’s party stopped in front of me.

  “Sim’Nu, you are welcome here in my home,” I said in Old Noge, and with false cheer, offering a full, formal Noge bow to the creature.

  “Thank you for a pleasant greeting, Loredana,” the witch replied, her pasty yellow eyes fixed on me as she bowed from the waist in return. “This is my general, Kieran, of the House Vassek. She is known to you.

  “There is no longer a House of Vassek,” I snapped, still speaking Old Noge, while staring directly into Sim’Nu’s unsettling eyes, and refusing to acknowledge Kieran. “I know the horse your general rides,” I continued. When Kieran dropped down from her saddle I turned and waved my head groom forward. “My personal mount, Sabea, has been returned to me,” I said to the groom, switching to Fae, making certain the groom who approached knew the horse he was handling was mine. “Tend to the wounds on her sides and bathe her, please,” I added. “The farrier will see to her feet immediately. Understand?” The groom nodded. “Also, she appears to have parasites. Ask Master Ko’Ten to give her health priority.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the groom acknowledged, bowing low before continuing with Sabea toward the stable.

  “I appreciate this token of goodwill, Sim’Nu,” I said reverting back to Old Noge and returning my attention to Sim’Nu.

  “She’s not returned to you, you fool. I claimed her in battle,” Kieran snapped in heavily accented Fae, having understood enough Fae when I gave my instructions to the groom to realize I planned to keep Sabea. “I only wanted you to know who rides her now.”

  I ignored Kieran, my eyes fixed on Sim’Nu’s blank yellow stare. I waited patiently for the witch to weigh her options, to make the logical choice. The horse held no value for the witch, but my favor was priceless.

  “You may keep the mare, Loredana,” Sim’Nu replied. I cut my eyes to Kieran, who understood not a word of Old Noge and smiled at her, so she would understand what had happened.

  “You can’t give her my horse,” Kieran snapped. I smiled at Sim’Nu, and she turned to appraise her general. “I claimed the mare in battle,” Kieran argued. “She’s rightfully mine.”

  “Loredana, are you willing to provide Kieran with a comparable mount?” Sim’Nu asked in her eerie, flat, perfect, Old Noge.

  “Of course,” I said, smiling graciously. “Your general will receive a suitable replacement, an animal in better health, one bred and raised in my own stables. Now, please, come inside. We’ll be more comfortable in the main keeping room,” I suggested, turning to lead the way.

  As we entered the palace, I noticed Kieran tensing, as if she expected to be attacked. I wondered if they had considered the possibility that I was leading them into a trap. Sim’Nu believed she had me under control, so I doubted it. Of course, I showed the hospitality due any guest, offering berrywine, and trays of fruit, nuts, and sweet meats. I had no intention of harming anyone within the palace walls. Still, no one touched the food as we appraised one another. Time had not been kind to Kieran, I noted as my eyes traveled over the
woman. Her face, which had once appeared boyish and playful, now only appeared hard and angry. I returned my attention to Sim’Nu.

  “I’m curious, Sim’Nu,” I started, again in Old Noge. “Why do you not speak inside my head, the way the Sim’Sci do? You have this connection also, do you not?” Sim’Nu’s yellow eyes fixed on me.

  “When you restarted the Sim’Sci they began maintaining the system. I was culled from the network,” she replied with surprising honesty. “I can only block communication on the network at present, which I did for a period with your Fae, and have been doing with the Sim’Sci since our meeting at the summit of Smugglers Pass,” she explained. “You and I will communicate in this way after our visit to the facility, once I again have access.”

  My mind was reeling with that information, as I tried to find a way to turn it to my benefit. Pet came into the room and chose a seat on the sofa beside me, forcing me to focus on the present again. She entwined the fingers of one hand tightly with mine and then pressed her other hand to the back of mine, encasing my hand between both of hers. I smiled at my friend, appreciating the support she offered.

  “Pet,” I said. “Sim’Nu has returned Sabea to me,” I told her. Despite my outward nonchalance over the matter, I was extremely pleased to have the mare back. “That was a kind gesture, wasn’t it?”

  “And Twyneth? Where is he?” Pet asked, turning her cold gaze on the witch.

  “I do not know to whom that Fae is referring,” the witch said to me, refusing to address Pet.

  “Sim’Nu, allow me to introduce Her Grace, the Grand Duchess of Tannuk,” I said, not at all appreciating the way Sim’Nu had referred to Pet as that Fae. “Sabea, the mare you so charitably returned, is my personal mount,” I replied sweetly. “Twyneth is a tall black gelding. He was M’Tek’s horse,” I explained. “I would deeply appreciate his return as well. Kieran, do you know where I might find M’Tek’s horse?” I asked switching to Vilken and finally acknowledging the hateful little Vilkerling.

  “Where’s my brother?” Kieran asked.

  “If you produce Twyneth, I’ll locate Kolten for you,” I replied calmly. I was willing to stoop to a bargain with Kieran, if it meant the return of Twyneth.

  “The Fae Queen’s horse is as dead as she is. I killed the animal myself, just as you killed my brother,” Kieran snapped.

  Honestly, I didn’t know whether or not Kolten was dead. It was entirely possible he was rotting away beneath us in a cell below the palace. Still, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to infuriate Kieran.

  “Of course. You’re right. I wasn’t making myself clear. I should have said I’ll try to locate what remains of Kolten,” I corrected with a cruel little laugh. “I don’t claim to have actually killed him myself, you see. I only stabbed him. When he recovered, I made a little present of your brother to M’Tek,” I explained, watching Kieran’s eyes grow large. “She always enjoyed playing with Vilkerlings. Their screams made her eyes light up so enticingly,” I said, allowing my Vilken to be clipped the way M’Tek spoke it.

  Kieran’s expression reflected extraordinary ferocity. In fact, she looked as though she’d like to come across the table to bury a knife in my heart. I smiled, satisfied with my brutal little attempt at vengeance, and turned my attention back to Sim’Nu.

  “Are you ready to discuss business?” I asked, resuming our conversation in Old Noge.

  “As you prefer, Loredana,” Sim’Nu replied.

  “If you’ll choose the man you’d like me to join with, I’ll send out a formal summons,” I suggested. “I think the upcoming summer solstice celebration would be the perfect time for a joining.”

  “You would like for me to choose your consort?” Sim’Nu asked flatly.

  “It would be simpler, don’t you think? I have no preference in the matter. The sooner I breed and produce a suitable Noge heir, the sooner I can stop hosting Vilkerlings in my home,” I explained, my gaze traveling over Kieran with distaste.

  “Would you like for me to send this Vilkerling away?” Sim’Nu offered, her gaze intense on me.

  “Not really,” I admitted. “If she does something stupid it might give me an opportunity to kill her. You wouldn’t mind, Sim’Nu, as long as I continue to be cooperative, right?” I asked, smiling in a friendly way.

  “The Vilkerling is of no real consequence, if I have your cooperation,” Sim’Nu said in Old Noge, appearing more detached than usual. Kieran glanced nervously at me and then at Sim’Nu, aware we were discussing her, but completely unable to decipher Old Noge.

  “Do you have any ideas about whom I should take as my consort?” I asked. Sim’Nu’s foul yellow eyes became duller than usual as her mind worked through the calculation. Finally, after a couple of minutes, her strange gaze settled on me again.

  “The Vischieu line is an old one,” Sim’Nu replied. “The High Lord’s mate died in battle, leaving the family without offspring. A joining with that family would keep two important lines alive,” she finished. “It would be the optimum crossing for you.”

  “I like that family,” I replied honestly. “The High Lord is also one of my generals. We have a rapport,” I added, making an effort to appear amenable to the idea. “He will do well, I believe,” I concluded. “Pet, draw up a summons inviting High Lord Vischieu to Lareem,” I commanded.

  “As you wish, my Queen,” Pet replied stiffly. I smiled at her, feeling sorry for the pain I was clearly causing my friend in that moment.

  “That wasn’t difficult,” I observed, returning my attention to Sim’Nu. “Our business is concluded, I believe,” I said, rising. “It was a short visit, but productive.”

  “Our initial business is concluded,” Sim’Nu corrected, offering an empty smile and remaining in her seat. “There is also the matter of the Sim’Sci,” she reminded me.

  “Of course,” I said, returning to my seat on the sofa. “What would you like me to do about them?” I asked. “I can ask them to be offline, I suppose, if you’ll open that connection between us. Isn’t that what you said before, offline? Do you believe they will cooperate?”

  “I will handle the Sim’Sci,” Sim’Nu replied. “You must accompany me to the facility and allow me access.”

  “When?” I asked, offering another faint smile before reaching for a cloudberry. I popped it into my mouth as I watched Kieran shift uncomfortably in her chair. I noticed Kieran hadn’t touched the food or berrywine, probably because she feared it was poisoned. I took a sip from my wineglass to wash the cloudberry down and returned my attention to the witch.

  “We will depart now,” Sim’Nu said.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to leave in the early hours of the morning,” I replied. “We would only have to camp one night in that case. I would, of course, offer you accommodation here in Lareem Palace for tonight.”

  “Don’t trust her, Sim’Nu,” Kieran imposed in Vilken, ignorant of our discussion, but still reading me quite clearly. Her gaze was hard on me. “Look at her eyes. She wants us dead.” Sim’Nu focused on Kieran for only a moment, and then returned her attention to me without comment. Her pus colored eyes studied me, searching for the violence Kieran saw in my gaze.

  “Your suggestion is a valid one, Loredana,” Sim’Nu observed, resuming our discussion in Old Noge. She smiled and tilted her head to the side giving an impression of considering my point as her mind worked for a solution. “However, I’d prefer leaving as soon as possible. My general knows you well. It would be unwise to ignore her warnings,” she replied.

  “All right. Then I’ll send word to the stable to ready the horses,” I agreed. “I have the perfect mount for your general, a half-brother to Sabea in fact, but younger. He’s a liver chestnut gelding out of M’Tek’s stallion Ronin. He’s not as beautiful as his sire, but he has his exact temperament,” I said, smiling as I pictured the mean little horse throwing Kieran. “His name is Viper,” I added, grinning.

  We were on our way within the hour. Sim’Nu scrutinized me closely as we ro
de. I brought three of my own guards with us, but other than that, I was unprotected. I knew a thousand guards couldn’t protect me from Sim’Nu if she learned of my betrayal, but clearly, the witch was still ignorant. I was willing to appear perfectly compliant to maintain the ruse.

  The first day and night of our journey were uneventful. We made good time as we rode northeastward toward the Rocky Coast. Throughout the journey, I noticed Viper trying to throw Kieran. The sight of the Vilkerling, frustrated and possibly anxious, put a warm smile on my face, and eased the tension in my shoulders. On the second day, when Viper turned his head and bit Kieran’s knee, causing her to mutter a string of Vilken expletives under her breath, I decided to offer the little gelding one of the apples I’d brought for Ballick.

  By the time we stopped to set up camp, on the second evening, I was in a fairly good mood. Sim’Nu noticed this and wanted to discover the reason. She waited as I fed an apple to Viper. I spoke sweetly to him as he backed his pointy ears at me and stomped his delicate front foot in irritation. The little gelding was even surlier than usual. Sim’Nu then accompanied me as I walked toward the river. I was intent on washing the travel dust from my face and hands.

  “You have been more accommodating than I anticipated,” Sim’Nu said flatly. “This is not the behavior I have learned to expect from you, Loredana.”

  “Have I confused you?” I asked, smiling brightly. “Let me set your mind at ease. I still don’t like you, but I see no reason to fight the inevitable. What I cannot change, I accept,” I added.

  “Yours is a rational approach,” Sim’Nu observed, nodding slowly. She clearly approved of pragmatism.

  “I suppose it is,” I replied, hating her even more for her response, if that’s possible.

  When we reached the riverbank I turned my back to the witch, knelt beside the river, and quickly scrubbed my hands. Once I deemed them clean, I lifted water to my face, throat, and the back of my neck, washing the grit away. When I stood, Sim’Nu was still standing at my back, studying me.