The Changeling

by H. P. Mallory

  Dureau spoke first, and I couldn’t help thinking back to what Klaasje had said about something being in the air. Dureau’s suspicions seemed to have changed him into a very different person.

  “This place has changed,” Dureau began, and no one would disagree with him. “And let us be frank, it’s changed since the arrival of the Daywalkers. We brought them here with best intentions, but those intentions have been thrown back in our faces. The idea that there might be one bad apple among them now seems impossible.” He paused and took a breath as he speared everyone in the room with his eyes once more. “It took more than one Daywalker to affect the attack on Mathilda’s cottage. It definitely took more than one to attack Klaasje. I’m not saying they’re all against us; I’m sure many are grateful for our hospitality, but we can’t risk lives by letting them all roam free. They need to be kept in check.”

  “What do you mean by ‘in check’,” asked Jolie.

  “I mean they can’t be allowed out of their camp,” explained Dureau. “They need to be kept there, by force if necessary.”

  He was talking about turning their camp into a prison. I wanted to speak up, but I found myself unsure of what to say. Part of me wondered; would it be such a bad thing? Just until we found out who was doing these things?

  A few more spoke in support of Dureau; they had little substance to add but wanted it made clear who they stood with. Then Jolie stood up.

  “You all know I was in favor of bringing the Daywalkers here, and I still believe it was the right thing to do. None of you have presented any clear evidence against them. Most of those who have spoken were uncertain about the Daywalkers long before the events of the last week.” She took a deep breath and nodded. “But you are right. Too much has now happened that something has to be done, and it’s up to me to decide what. But I won’t make a decision like that without hearing both sides of the story.”

  She nodded to a guard standing in front of the door. The guard opened it to reveal Adam standing outside. I saw Dureau’s face contract in anger, and he wasn’t the only one; admitting a Daywalker to the council chamber was unheard of.

  “I want to hear what Adam has to say on behalf of his people,”

  said Jolie. “He was the first to seek us out and he’s gone out of his way to be an active part of our community here. Adam, you may address the council.”

  Adam bowed nervously. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

  He scanned the rows of hostile faces and swallowed. I was torn between a desire to comfort him and wishing he wasn’t here.

  “Members of the council, thank you for allowing me to speak. I know that some unexplained things have been happening here these last few days. And I know that many of you blame my people. I

  wish I could give you solid evidence that it wasn’t a Daywalker who sabotaged Mathilda’s water wheel or attacked Klaasje.” He gave her a shy smile. “And, Klaasje, I’m glad to see you feeling so much better.”

  “Stick to the point,” snapped Dureau.

  “Chevalier!” Jolie silenced Dureau with a word.

  Adam nodded and continued. “I wish I could tell you that I knew my people weren’t responsible,” continued Adam. “But I can’t.”

  There was much discussion among the members of the council at this. Rand was able to quiet them as Adam continued.

  “What I can tell you is that we’re forever grateful to you for what you’ve done for us. Our lives under Luce were harsh and short. You’ve given us a home and we appreciate it. We love it here. We feel…we felt that we were part of your community and we were happy to be part of your community here.” He took a breath.

  “What reason would we have to sabotage the only peace we’ve ever known? We rely on the blood of your vampires for our lives. Why would we sabotage that? Just as importantly,” he drew himself up, as if delivering a lesson, “I said I can’t say for certain it wasn’t a Daywalker who did these things. No more can you say with certainty that it wasn’t a vampire or a werewolf, a witch or a Fae. And if it were a vampire, then would you talk about imprisoning them? If it were a Fae who attacked Klaasje, would you target Odran, Mathilda, or Dureau?” He looked up and down the table for an answer. “Of course you wouldn’t! If it were one of your own kind who did this, then you’d see it as the act of an individual, not the group. So why, if it turns out to be a Daywalker, do you judge all Daywalkers?”

  Damn, that was a good question. The answer was because they’d been our enemies for so long. But that wasn’t much of an answer.

  “As things stand,” Adam went on, “a majority of Daywalkers still feel part of the community here at Kinloch Kirk. But we’re feeling more and more like outsiders. And the more who feel like that, the worse things could become for you.”

  “Are ye threatening oos?!” asked Odran, leaping to his feet.

  “No,” Adam replied, holding up his hands to comfort the oaf. “I’m telling you what’s happening in the Daywalker camp. There are a few who have started to wonder if we were better off with Luce.

  What happens next is going to have consequences.” He bowed again.

  “I hope you will consider all I’ve said. We’re not bad people.

  We’re just, unfortunately, new.”

  When Adam left, there was silence in the council chamber. He’d made people think, but I wondered if his parting words about the Daywalkers turning back to Luce had merely undermined what he’d said earlier about treating them fairly.

  “Does anyone else wish to address the council?” asked Jolie.

  No one said anything.

  “Let’s take a few minutes to consider what’s been said.”

  Bryn, aren’t you going to speak . Jolie’s words flashed into my mind. I tried to ignore them. Bryn? Can’t you hear me?

  I heard you. I don’t have anything to say.

  Are you kidding? asked Jolie. S ince when have you ever not had anything to say?

  You don’t need me to speak .

  I value your opinion and so does everyone here. No one is speaking up for the Daywalkers except Adam, and not a lot of people care what he thinks, unfortunately.

  Then I guess no one speaks up for them .

  I saw Jolie look up at me from across the room, the surprise etched on her face. I felt like I’d let her down, and I hated to do it, but… the baby came first. Adam didn’t even know there was a problem with my child, and maybe he would have spoken differently if he had.

  I didn’t know if the Daywalkers were responsible, and truthfully my opinion kept flicking back and forth like a passing shadow.

  But no one had presented any better options for what might be wrong, and as long as that was the case, I wanted the Daywalkers under control. I hated myself for it, but that was how it had to be.

  When the brief break ended, Mathilda spoke in defense of the Daywalkers. She’d been a victim in these recent events, but she didn’t blame them, because there was no evidence. As always, the old Fae spoke with calm and ease, but that carried little weight at times like these. She could offer no other solution, so she was largely ignored.

  “The final decision rests with the Queen,” said Rand, who had managed to stay silently supportive of Jolie, whatever he might privately think.

  Jolie stood, and it cut me deep to see the heavy weight that rested on her shoulders.

  “The council is divided. In such events, as Rand has said, the decision rests with me. The Daywalkers came here seeking refuge.

  We invited them here, offering them refuge. On the other hand, it’s true that much has happened since their arrival—albeit only in the last week. And, so far, no other explanation for these events has been offered. I’m also aware that the consequences of

  these events hang far more heavily on some members of this council than on others.”

  Her gaze shot towards me, and I hoped I saw in it some forgiveness, or at least understanding of why I’d refused to speak.

  “This isn’t an easy decision,” Jolie went on. “But I
must act for the good of the community.”

  I held my breath and wished with all my heart that at that moment the doors would fly back open and Sinjin would stride in, making one of his dramatic entrances and bring news that would take this burden away from my loving sister.

  But the doors remained shut. Sinjin was far away, and whatever was about to happen, I would have to face without him by my side.

  FOURTEEN

  Sinjin

  Dayna relieved me partway through the night so I could get some sleep. I had been watching the young couple, curled up together.

  They had impressed me considerably during the trials and made me glad I had brought them along. It was not so much their physical prowess—though both were strong—but more their tenacity.

  Their youthful enthusiasm had probably blinded them initially to just how tough and dangerous this was going to be, but neither had backed down nor complained. True, I occasionally found them annoying because they were young and stupid, but that youth and stupidity never stopped them. Their loyalty to me had yesterday saved me from a terrible fate—not just because they had searched for me, but because they had thought me worth searching for. Gaia was getting the measure of me in more ways than one.

  I awoke the following morning with the light and looked about.

  “Damek? Dayna?”

  Neither of my young companions were anywhere to be seen. Swiftly I got up and searched. The broad plateau offered no hiding places.

  “Damek! Dayna!”

  No answers.

  There was no blood on the ground, no signs of a struggle.

  Frustration tore through my mind; I could not abandon them, but every moment I took was a moment away from Bryn.

  “Damek! Dayna!”

  “They are both safe, Master Vampire.”

  I spun around and started back a step. Sitting on an outcrop, its placid gaze directed at me, was a huge lioness. Her fur was a dark yellow, and her massive, heavy paws curled over the edge of the rock on which she sat, revealing black claws. Behind her, I saw her tail move lazily as if it were swatting a fly.

  As I stared, she licked her chops with a broad, pink tongue, her gaze never leaving me. It was her eyes that held me most; they were animal, and yet with a depth of intelligence I had never seen in an animal before. They shone like gold.

  “Where are my friends?” I demanded.

  “I told you, they are safe,” the lioness replied, her voice dark and rich.

  “That does not answer my question; where are they?”

  “They are where you left them. Still sleeping. You are there too.”

  “I am there?” I repeated, failing to see how such was possible.

  The lion appeared to smile. “Your view of the world is too simplistic, little vampire, you refuse to see how two contradictory things can be true at the same time.”

  “Apologies,” I said, sarcastically. “It is not something one encounters on an everyday basis where I come from.”

  “I should think that goes for most of what you have seen here.”

  “Is this the third trial?” I asked.

  The lioness threw back her head and chuckled. It was an oddly cat-like sound, yet cats do not, to the best of my belief, chuckle. If cats were to chuckle, then this was exactly what they would sound like. “You should wish, baby vampire.”

  “Baby?” I let my own affronted arrogance get the better of me.

  The lioness fixed me with her golden gaze. “When you were born, I was already more ancient than your mind can comprehend. When your species drew the blood of its first mortal prey, I was, even then, as old as these hills. What else should I call you, baby vampire?”

  I have faced many dangers in my life and while I have known fear, I also knew how to suppress it. But at that moment, I was scared and not ashamed to show it.

  “My apologies. I was rude.”

  “You seek an audience with Gaia?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  I guessed the lioness knew why, but I told her anyway. “The woman I love, the mother of my unborn child, needs help. Something is wrong with the child, and the wisest people I know cannot say what and cannot help her.”

  The lioness put her head to one side. “People have sought the help of The Mother to determine the fates of nations. Why should she help for the sake of one child?”

  “I have heard it said,” I replied, “that the life of a single child is more important than the fates of nations. But, if I am honest, that is not my reason. My reason is that I love the woman and the child, and I would do anything to help them. Gaia is my last resort. It may be absurdly self-interested, she may laugh in my face or tear me to shreds, but I have to try.”

  “Good answer,” said the lioness.

  “Good answer in that Gaia will help?” I asked, hopefully.

  “Good answer in that it is truthful,” the lioness explained. “Had you lied, I would have killed you where you stand.”

  “And now?”

  “Now you will face the third trial. Alone.”

  “And my friends?” Fixated as I was on Bryn, I would not just abandon Damek and Dayna.

  “They will be safe. They will meet you at the end. Or not. If you succeed, they will leave with you. If you fail, they will leave with no memory of what they have seen here. They are unimportant.

  Gaia only permitted them to come this far because they were useful in revealing something about you.”

  I nodded. “I am ready to face the third trial.”

  The lioness managed to affect a shrug. “It does not matter whether you are ready or not, baby vampire; you are facing it.

  Stick to the path, The Mother is at the other end.”

  As she spoke the final word, I was plunged into almost total darkness. The only light came from the path at my feet, a ribbon of luminous stones that stretched out along a tunnel that seemed to burrow through the mountains or perhaps under the earth, I had no idea where I was.

  “Follow the path,” I murmured to myself. So simple. But that had been the case for all Gaia’s trials thus far; simple and yet revealing. They revealed something about me; that for all my apparent selfishness, I would not leave my friends; that for all my snide wit and arrogance, others cared for me. They had revealed more than I was comfortable with, and I was not anxious to see what this last trial might show.

  The stones scrunched beneath my feet as I walked, straining to see ahead. Vampires have excellent night vision, but that did not seem to matter here, and I had a hunch that whether you were vampire, mortal, or indeed blind, everyone would see the same in this tunnel. To either side of me I began to notice deeper patches of darkness; voids in the tunnel wall leading to… who knew?

  On I walked, my keen vampire sense alert to every sound.

  “Sinjin!” It was Damek! I looked about for him but there was no sign.

  “Sinjin! Dayna is hurt! We were attacked by a lion. Please help us!” The voice came from one of the voids, echoing up at me.

  “Sinjin, please!” The anguish in his cracking voice was all too real. Had the lioness lied to me? Had she attacked my friends to use them to tempt me?

  “Sinjin!” This time it was Dayna, obviously in agony.

  “Sinjin, she’s dying! Help us! You have to help us!”

  It was not real. The words, though in Damek’s voice, were not his own. I strode on, leaving their pleading voices behind me, trying not to listen. Even though I knew it was fake there was part of me that still wondered. Maybe…?

  But I had to walk on. For Bryn.

  “Sinjin, where have you been? We need you.”

  “Jolie…?” It seemed like centuries since I had heard the voice of the Queen I loved. How had she arrived here? At that moment it did not seem to matter.

  “You were gone so long, Sinjin. You shouldn’t have gone. I tried so hard to keep order, but the Daywalkers rebelled, and when I would not have them killed, Rand deposed me. We are at war, Sinjin; we need you.”<
br />
  It all sounded horrifyingly believable. Everything she said were things I had feared would happen in my absence.

  But no. I was happy to believe the worst of Randall, but he would not betray Jolie. Much as I disliked the man, he loved her too much. He would have cut his own head off before hurting her.

  “Sinjin, don’t leave us again! Don’t leave me!”

  Even knowing it was not real, I still found myself whispering, “I am sorry, my Queen.”

  Damn, this place. I was in hell.

  “Sinjin.” This time the voice was not pleading or pained, it was cocky and self-assured, taunting me. It was of course the voice of the frog, Chevalier. “Bryn’s mine now, Sinjin. Do you know how long it took after you left for me to get her into my bed? Less than a week. That’s how much she cared for you.”

  My fists clenched and my teeth gritted. Without meaning to, I had stopped walking to listen.

  “Of course she was worried about the baby at first, but I soon took care of that. Problem solved. I think we’re both much happier with it gone. At least I am. Like a tigress, isn’t she, Sinjin? In bed I mean. At first, it was almost as if she didn’t want it. But I soon broke her. Now she’s quite docile. Tame even.

  Does whatever I ask, and believe me,” he laughed, “I ask for some twisted things. Sometimes I don’t even care what I’m asking for, I just want to see what I can make her do, how far I can make your woman debase herself for my pleasure.”

  I screamed. My cry echoed up and down the corridors as I tried to deafen myself to the words of Chevalier, but they still sounded in my head.

  “Don’t worry, her bruises will heal.”

  It was not real. There was no way it was real! Chevalier was a pompous, preening fop, but he would never hurt a woman. He would never hurt Bryn. And if he had tried to ‘break her’ as this mocking voice described, then Bryn would break his arm. She was twice the warrior Chevalier was. Besides, she loved me. It was not real; it could not be real, and yet the urge to run into the void and give Chevalier the pasting he deserved was almost more than I could stand.