The Changeling

by H. P. Mallory

  Mathilda raised her hands to the dawning sky, and it seemed for a moment as if she had captured some of that morning light,

  borrowing power from the sun itself. As the light radiated out from her slim body, the sea seemed to calm, the waves flattening to undulations. Opening her hands, Mathilda released the ball of dawn light that dipped to the ocean, then scudded out across the water, skipping like a flat stone. It tacked left then right, sometimes executing a complete circle before moving on in its weaving path, out across the stilled waters of the bay. It was searching for something.

  Then it moved faster, racing to a new spot, bouncing up then vanishing beneath the smooth surface. A moment later, the water glowed from beneath, a pulsing light shining up from the bottom.

  “Fetch the boats!” called Jolie.

  They had found Odran in the prison beneath the water that the Fir Darrig had constructed for him.

  #

  Bryn

  “Ah remember only a wee bit.”

  It was later that day, and Odran sat in his room in Kinloch Kirk.

  I hadn’t been here before, but it was exactly as I would have imagined—sporting trophies, antique weapons hung on the walls, and many pictures of Odran himself, including a life-size oil on canvas of the Fae King, noticeably nude and looking even more muscular than he actually was.

  “You were attacked by the Fir Darrig,” explained Jolie.

  “Nae,” Odran shook his head. “Ah cannae believe that. Ah was down at the bay with a wee lassie—ooncommonly bonnie, she was. Ah had jist sooggested skinny dippin’ an’ was takin’ off mah kilt to let her view the good stuff when…” He shook his head. “That’s all Ah can recall right now.”

  “The ‘lassie’,” said Jolie on a laugh, and I thought she was enjoying this almost as much as I was, “was the Fir Darrig in disguise.”

  “And he was far from ‘bonnie’,” Bryn added. “In fact, he was downright hideous.”

  “Nae,” Odran said and shook his head.

  “I’m afraid so,” Jolie answered.

  “That beautiful lass with the long golden hair an’ the nice big…?”

  “It was the Fir Darrig, Odran,” Jolie interrupted before Odran’s description became unnecessarily detailed.

  “Then Ah…” Odran started. “Bedded ah man?” he finished as he looked at Sinjin with imploring eyes, as though hoping the vampire would prove his question false.

  “I am afraid so, old chap,” Sinjin answered.

  Odran dropped his head back and pounded on his chest with his fists as he bellowed out a loud yell that is probably still circulating the earth. Then he looked at us and shook his head.

  “Perhaps it’s jist as well Ah cannae remember. Where is the creature now?”

  “It took your form, Odran. Pretended to be you,” I said.

  Odran’s brow furrowed. “How long have Ah bin down there?”

  “We don’t know exactly,” Mercedes took up the story. “Certainly for some weeks.”

  “Weeks?!” Odran looked shocked.

  He’d been brought back up by the Selkie, a form of Fae who transformed themselves into seals. They’d discovered him lying asleep in a bubble of air sealed by the Darrig’s magic. He might have spent the rest of his life there if we hadn’t found him.

  Between them, Jolie and Mercedes tried to explain everything, or almost everything, while the others chipped in to fill out the complex story. At the end of it, Odran shook his head again in disbelief.

  “Why did he nae jist kill me?”

  “The Darrig can take any form it pleases,” explained Mathilda.

  “But for the really accurate imitation—the sort of thing that would be necessary to fool us—it needed you alive so it could draw on everything that makes you… you. In a sense it actually became you, but a you that was controlled by the Fir Darrig.”

  Odran looked around the circle of faces around him. “Thank ye all. Ye’ve saved mah life, and I’ll nae forget it.” He looked at me. “But whit o’ the wee bairn?”

  It meant a lot to me that, in all that had happened to him, Odran still thought to ask after my baby. It was easy to make fun of him, but deep down he was a decent and honorable man.

  “We know the Darrig has my daughter in Faery. But we don’t know any more than that.”

  Odran sprang to his feet. “Then whit are we waitin’ for?”

  “We have no idea where to look or how to go about searching,”

  explained Jolie. “There are Fae among us who know that realm well, and Mathilda’s magic might help, but Faery is a mess of bickering factions. Traveling there is difficult for Fae, and impossible for just one of us. But for you…”

  Odran seemed to swell as he realized the sudden importance he’d assumed. “A Fae King may go where he pleases, and woe to any who would try tae stop him.” He turned to me with resolution in his eyes. “Ah will find yer child for ye or Ah shall die tryin’.”

  “The latter option would be singularly unhelpful,” commented Sinjin, never impressed by Odran’s big, brash declarations.

  “We’re forming a party to go hunt for Bryn and Sinjin’s child,”

  said Jolie. “We’d like you to lead it.”

  “In the sense of guiding it,” added Sinjin quickly. “I will be leading it.”

  For once, Odran had no problem with being given orders by another. “Whitever ye want o’ me, Ah am happy to perform. Ah am in yer debt, an’ am yers to command.”

  “Is there anything you can tell us of the Fir Darrig that might be useful?” asked Mathilda.

  “It’s a tricky one an’ nae mistake,” replied Odran, sucking at his teeth. “Ah’ve nae idea how old it might be, nor do Ah think anyone knows. Ah remember mah Daddy tellin’ me o’ the beastie when I was a wee bairn. Even then, ‘twas practically a fairytale, a way o’ scarin’ misbehavin’ children—eat oop yer greens or the Fir Darrig will come for he! Boot Ah always believed in it.”

  “Do you know what happened with it and the Seelie Court?” Jolie asked.

  “Och aye,” Odran nodded. “That was afore Ah was born, boot Ah think it would have been in mah Daddy’s time. The Darrig was first among the child thieves plaguin’ the mortals, leavin’ his changelings behind. He was skilled at it, an’ never once was caught. Boot times were changin’, we were puttin’ more distance

  ‘tween ourselves an’ humanity, an’ the Court wanted him to stop.

  Too many mortals were oot lookin’ for oos, too many half-mortals livin’ in Faery. O’course, the Darrig didnae listen an’ kept doin’ whatever it pleased. Ah think nae one expected any different of it. Boot whit they didnae expect was fer it to start its own court, for it to try to wrest power from the hands of mah father an’ the Seelie Court.”

  “I never knew that,” breathed Dureau.

  “It’s not widely advertised,” said Mathilda. “In case anyone thinks to try it again.”

  “He came a deal too close for comfort,” nodded Odran. “The Oonseelie Court it was called. A unitin’ of the most malicious an’ evil-minded Fae in the realm—some o’ the most powerful as well. The oonfortunate truth is that the older Fae are the most powerful, an’ they are the ones with the least respect for the mortals. They were there when the mortals were young an’ barely more than apes—‘tis hard for them to see humans as anythin’ other than animals. Also, the older ones bore easily, as powerful beings tend to. They need somethin’ to keep them diverted, an’

  they take their pleasure in some nasty ways.”

  “If all the most powerful Fae were in the Unseelie Court, then how did the Seelie survive?” asked Audrey, genuinely interested by the untold story of her people.

  “Ah didnae say ‘all’,” stressed Odran. “Mah Daddy had some power on his side too. Boot I’ll grant ye that for a while it seemed in the balance. The Oonseelie, by their nature, were happy tae use oonderhand tactics an’ trickery that the Seelie Court struggled tae match. Everyone expected a grand battle, boot in the end, they we
re their own oondoin’.”

  “They couldn’t work together,” smiled Mathilda, as if she were remembering something that had happened just last week.

  “Aye,” nodded Odran. “The members o’ the Oonseelie Court were nae made tae work together. As soon as one’s back was turned, another would take advantage. They couldnae fight their basic natures an’

  were soon fightin’ amongst themselves. The Seelie Court took their chance an’ squashed the rebellion. The members of the Oonseelie Court were banished to the fringes of Faery. Ah believe they did consider imprisonin’ them, boot keepin’ sich beings captive wouldnae be easy. Besides, the Seelie Court didnae want to give the Unseelie a reason to seek revenge. Most o’ them were happy enough tae go back to their lives as they were before—it mattered little to them where they lived. Only the Fir Darrig took it to heart. Before he departed our realm for those beyond, mah Daddy warned me tae always know where the Darrig was, tae always keep an eye on it.” Odran’s huge shoulders slumped. “Ah shoulda done as he advised. Ah seem tae have let everyone down an’ nearly paid a terrible price.” He took a breath. “Not tae mention Ah bedded a lad.”

  Mathilda put a comforting hand on the King’s shoulders. “If the Darrig wanted to do this, then ‘keeping an eye on it’ wasn’t going to stop it. There was nothing you could have done.”

  “And you didn’t exactly ‘bed a lad’,” Jolie added. “He appeared like a woman, right?”

  “Ah sooppose so,” Odran said in a dejected sort of way. “Ah could have kept mah wits about me rather than goin’ skinny dippin’ with a bonnie lassie jist because she had nice big…”

  “That’s all in the past,” Jolie cut Odran off once again. “The point is, you know the Fir Darrig from your father. Do you know where it might hide out? Where it might be hiding Sinjin’s and Bryn’s child?”

  Odran spread his ham-like hands wide. “Ah know where it used to hide the stolen bairns back in the day. It strikes me as a creature o’ habit. Ah can lead ye there.”

  “When do we start?” Sinjin, of course, was anxious to get going, and I was right there with him. But there was something else I had to take care of first.

  “Will the baby be safe wherever she is?” I asked Odran.

  “Aye, as safe as she could be,” he answered. “The Darrig willnae harm her.”

  I nodded. “Then we leave tomorrow,” I said. “It’ll give us time to prepare.”

  I looked at Jolie, and although no thoughts passed between us, I knew my sister understood what ‘preparation’ I was talking about.

  “Tomorrow,” agreed Jolie. “Now, let’s decide who will go.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Bryn

  Sinjin and I left the meeting early; we’d both been through so much in the last few days and hadn’t yet had a chance to stop and enjoy being together again. When we’d parted, both of us had secretly feared it might be forever; he was traveling into danger; I was staying in it. Since his sudden return, we’d barely taken a breather for long enough to appreciate the fact that we were both still standing.

  Back at our little house, we enjoyed lunch together, chatting occasionally but mostly just taking pleasure in each other’s company. As I cleared the plates away, I felt Sinjin behind me, putting his strong arms around my body.

  “Remarkably, I do not believe I have said this yet; but it is wonderful to be back here with you again, Bête Noir .”

  “Well, it’s pretty wonderful to have you back.”

  I liked that our relationship had reached a point where we didn’t need big, overblown romantic gestures or speeches; we each knew how the other felt. Inside, we were overjoyed to see each other, but the greatest love poets in the world couldn’t come up with words to express how we felt, and there were no actions that better conveyed it than simply being together.

  I didn’t miss anything specific about Sinjin when he was away, I missed him ; the whole of him, the everything. I missed how I felt when he was there. There was nothing I specifically wanted to do with him now that he was back, I just wanted him beside me.

  We cuddled on the couch together, as close as we could.

  “How were Damek and Dayna?”

  “I would love to tell you they were annoying (and they were); I would love to tell you their teen love was nauseating (and it was); but in truth, I could not have picked two better and more loyal companions. They kept going when it was the last thing they wanted to do, and I am fairly certain they saved my life during the second trial.”

  “Trial?”

  “Ah,” Sinjin sighed. “The trials. That is a long story, little wildcat.”

  “I’m sorry, do you have someplace better to be?”

  Sinjin shrugged. “The men of Kinloch were going to go bowling, but I suppose I can blow that off to hang out with you instead.”

  I laughed at his choice of language and then at the image of him bowling. In bowling shoes. I would pay to see that.

  “I jest,” he said with a smile.

  “Yeah, you better be.”

  He paused. “The trip was a challenge.”

  “How so?”

  “I hesitate to tell you, my pet, as it might upset you.”

  “You survived, right? You’re here, right?”

  He nodded. “Very well. I spent much of the trip inches from death.”

  “Actually, it sounds pretty entertaining.”

  “Delighted to learn my death-defying served some purpose.”

  “Don’t be a baby. You came out of it alive, didn’t you?”

  “Technically no,” Sinjin pointed out. “Vampire.”

  “Well, as alive as you were before leaving. Besides, it might be enlightening to know what the great Sinjin Sinclair considers to be ‘Challenging’.”

  “You, my Tempest,” smiled Sinjin, kissing me gently. “You are a daily challenge and a constant trial that I am always trying to meet.”

  “Come on, tell me everything.”

  “You are certain you want to hear it?”

  “Sure. Omit no detail. What was Mathilda’s friend like?”

  Sinjin grinned. “I had actually almost forgotten about her. It seems like years ago. She was the first challenge. She locked me in the boot of her car.”

  “Trunk.”

  “In the trunk of her car, if you insist, my Hellion. Hero had a thing about vampires…”

  “Her name is Hero?”

  “If you are going to keep interrupting, then you will turn a long story into a Viking epic.”

  “Again, do you have someplace better to be? Not including the bowling alley?” I laughed.

  Sinjin drew me closer to him. “No, Tempest. There is no place in the world better than this one.”

  He was right, it was a long story and my constant interruptions made it longer. The afternoon wore into the evening, and we switched roles as I told him all that had happened in his absence. While his story seemed full of adventure and heroism, I felt mine was grim by comparison, full of misery and near disaster. It was good to tell it again, to remind myself of everything I’d been through since his departure, and it was comforting to say the difficult words with him there to hear them.

  “Perhaps I should not have gone,” he said sadly, as my story ended.

  “Then we might never have discovered the Fir Darrig,” I pointed out. “Besides, if you had been here, then you’d have fallen under his spell as well. You and I might have ended up on different sides like Jolie and Rand.”

  Sinjin shook his head. “The creature was obviously powerful…”

  “Kicked your ass.”

  “I was merely keeping it busy until you arrived. As I was saying, it may have been powerful, but I like to think I am not so easily influenced mentally as others.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure you do like to think that, but it doesn’t make it so.”

  “May I remind you that I stood up to the trials of Gaia.”

  “The Fir Darrig was different,” I replied. “A different kind of
power. Gaia couldn’t have been more honest. She tried to destroy you with the truth. The Darrig was just the reverse; forever the trickster.”

  Sinjin nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. I have been meaning to ask you; when you made your bet with the Darrig, how were you able to tell which was the true me? The imitation of the Fir Darrig was perfect, and I would not have thought you could trick a trickster. How did you do it? Did Mathilda help?”

  I shook my head. “How do you think I did it?”

  “I truly have no idea.”

  I shrugged. “I just picked you.”

  Sinjin’s jaw dropped. “You mean to say you guessed?”

  “No. I picked you .”

  I was acting very blasé about it but, truth be told, I had no idea how I’d done it. When the Darrig demonstrated its skill in mimicry, even to extent of copying Sinjin’s mind, I was momentarily scared. But then I realized I knew which one Sinjin was; he was the one who was Sinjin. It was not one thing I saw, no tell-tale gesture or stray thought, no error the Darrig made; he just wasn’t Sinjin and Sinjin was Sinjin. That was my only way of explaining it; of course I knew Sinjin when I saw him, how could I not? He was my Sinjin, and a good fake was still a fake.

  Sinjin kissed me again. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever encountered.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I imagine I am.”

  “I am very glad you put that creature in its place.”

  “Only a little bit.” We couldn’t avoid the topic forever. “That bastard still won.”

  “He escaped,” corrected Sinjin. “He has not won. He will not win.”

  When he said the words, I almost believed them. “He left us injured though.”

  Gently, I guided Sinjin’s hand to my swollen belly. Before leaving, he’d taken such leisure in touching my stomach, knowing his child was growing within me. Now things were different, and

  I’d noticed he’d avoided touching me the same way. Even now, I could feel the tension as his hand rested on me. But maybe that was because he knew what was going to happen soon.

  “It’s very still tonight,” I breathed.

  “Now that the Darrig has gone, you mean?”

  I nodded.