Once Upon a Changeling

by V. J. Chambers

  “I’m not going to tell you,” she said.

  Goddammit. She had to tell me. “Listen, Puck, I’m just going to bring him along. I’ll do all the talking. I’ll get the baby back and then everything will be cool.”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t even know if I want you to go at all. I don’t want you to be unconscious, and I don’t want you bleeding any more than you already are. Marcos can do it alone. But neither of you should do anything until the Equinox.”

  Like hell. I was the one who’d gone through all of this crap thus far. I wasn’t letting Marcos in to replace me in the last quarter. I was running this ball all the way to the net. But if she wanted it to be that way, fine. I could work with that. What Puck didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt her. It was kind of cute the way she was all worried about me, anyway. “All right. You’re right. Marcos can go alone.” She couldn’t tell I was lying through my teeth, could she? “Just tell me where the Hill is anyway, because then I can tell Marcos tomorrow or the next day—whenever he’s ready to go.”

  “I can tell him. And I don’t want him to go before the Equinox. I have some ideas, Russ, and I thought you’d be part of it, but I don’t want you to get hurt. I need to think.”

  “I know you can tell him, but … .” Jesus! Why wouldn’t she just cooperate with me? “What if we can’t get in touch with you? You just said your mom didn’t want you around us. I know you have ideas, but what if something comes up and you can’t help?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them. “Okay, fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t want you hurt is all, Russ. If something happened to you, and I wasn’t around to help you, it would kill me.” She hugged me. “You know, anyway, Marcos will need to take the changeling to the Korrigan Queen. She’ll want to trade.”

  Damn it!

  I sat in my car for a few minutes after Puck went back inside. I fully intended to go to the Hill now that I knew where it was, but the fact that I needed to get the changeling added a whole different wrinkle to the equation. My parents thought I was working late. If I went home, they’d know I wasn’t. Plus, what if they saw Marcos in the back seat of my car passed out? They might not like that.

  I took a deep breath and tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter what my parents thought, I had to go and do this right now. I was the baby’s last hope. It was important. Robin had said that the baby’s real parent had to be there, but he hadn’t said the parent needed to be conscious. This would work. I would just run into my house, grab the kid, and go. I could do it.

  Still. What if it didn’t work? What if Marcos needed to be conscious? What if my parents freaked out and called the police or something? And what if … ?

  I didn’t know what to do. My earlier anger against Marcos, white hot and consuming, had faded. I felt stupid and impulsive. I never should have tried to fight Marcos. It was dumb luck that he was unconscious and I wasn’t. By all rights, Marcos should have pulverized me. Maybe he’d let me win because he felt guilty about what he’d done.

  I thought about his excuses. His own ignorance of Cindi’s pregnancy. His thought that my family would provide a better home for the kid. Were they good excuses? Not really. And he really had let us go on a wild goose chase with trying to find the baby’s father when he knew all along that he was responsible.

  Still. He was kind of the only friend I really had these days besides Puck. I looked at his motionless form in the back seat. I kind of wished he’d wake up.

  Then I caught a glance of my own face in the mirror in my car. Whoa. No wonder Puck had been freaked out. I did not look good. I wiped some dried blood off of my upper lip.

  “Dude,” said Marcos, “I fucked you up bad.”

  I jumped. “How long have you been awake?”

  Marcos sat up in the backseat, wincing. “Not long.”

  “You’re the one who was unconscious,” I said. “I fucked you up.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Seriously?”

  For a second, I wanted to slug him again. Then my shoulders slumped. “Uh, yeah. I was stupid to try and fight you.”

  Marcos shrugged. “I was a dick. You had to do it. I get it.” He paused. “Look, Russ, you have to believe me when I say I’m sorry.”

  Did I believe him? The weight of the situation crashed back onto me again. The jealousy, the betrayal, the danger. I looked at Marcos. I did believe him. I knew he was sorry. “It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

  “Are you kidding? I owe you an enormous apology,” said Marcos. “I ruined your life.”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s not true.” And it wasn’t. My parents were assholes, but they were right about one thing. I hadn’t been taking responsibility for my actions. I’d been blaming some faceless guy for everything that had gone wrong in my life. But I’d never spoken up. I’d never said that Cindi and I hadn’t had sex. I’d never told anyone that it wasn’t my baby. In short, I had only complained about my lot in life. I hadn’t done anything to change it. I couldn’t keep living like that. That wasn’t what adults did. “I ruined my own life,” I said. No. That wasn’t right either. “Actually,” I said. “I have a great life. I wouldn’t change a thing that happened.”

  “I would,” said Marcos. “When we get him back, I want to know my son.”

  “You don’t have to take him,” I said. “You know, I’m used to the idea of being a teenage father. I can handle it. You’re right. My parents do have money.”

  Marcos shook his head. “Thanks, Russ, but no. I want him. Besides, it’s my responsibility.”

  “We can talk about this later,” I said. “We’ve got to get him back first.”

  “Yeah,” said Marcos. “Tonight.”

  Good. We were on the same page. But I felt like I should at least offer a token bit of resistance. “We don’t have to do it tonight. You’ve been unconscious and—”

  “Tonight,” said Marcos.

  As I’d predicted, my parents were less than happy with the idea of my taking the kid out of the house late at night. They especially weren’t happy about seeing me with Marcos, whom they barely remembered from the time he babysat. The two of us swept into my house and scooped up the changeling. We headed out the door, paying no attention to the fact that my mother was screaming, “What are you boys doing? You can’t take that child out of here.”

  I drove. Marcos held Keiler. We didn’t even bother to put him in his car seat. He didn’t need it. He’d be safe. We were all excited. Well, Keiler was excited. Marcos and I were adrenaline-pumped. We were ready to face the Queen. I followed the directions that Puck had given me. The Hill was inland, on the other side of the interstate. We didn’t say much. I rolled the windows down, let the night wind tousle our hair and our breath. We couldn’t speak. The wind caught in the back of our throats. Every stoplight seemed to turn green before we got there. We cruised along Fruitville Road in the far left lane. I felt free. I felt invincible. I also felt scared out of my goddamned mind. I had no idea what I was doing or why I was doing it.

  When we finally reached the Hill, it didn’t appear to be much of a hill. It was more like a hump, honestly. Neither Marcos nor I were impressed, but Keiler was quite excited. Marcos and I took the pixie dust I’d purchased and did as Puck had told us to do to claim it. We poured it over ourselves, turned ourselves around, hopped on one foot, and did the hokey pokey. Okay, I’m joking about that last part. Fey rituals seemed a little silly if you asked me.

  Armed with key and pear, we made our way up to the Hill.

  “Look,” said Marcos, “maybe you better stay behind. Didn’t you say that the baby’s parent has to do this?”

  I was holding Keiler. “Oh no,” I said, switching him to my other hip. “I’m coming with you. I didn’t wrestle a crazy water nymph for nothing. I earned this, buddy.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “No,” I said.

  Marcos hesitated for a
moment. “Okay,” he said, “but give me the kid.”

  My turn to hesitate.

  “Russ, I’ve got to make the trade,” said Marcos.

  I guessed he was right. I reluctantly handed Keiler over to Marcos. “Okay,” I said. “But no leaving me behind. We stick together. Got it?”

  “We’ll stick together,” said Marcos. “Geez. You worry a lot.”

  “It’s what parents do,” I said. “Get used to it.”

  Marcos laughed.

  We continued towards the hill. We were maybe a few feet away when the pear started to glow. I was holding it and I made an involuntary sound of excitement.

  “What’s that mean? What’s that mean?” demanded Marcos.

  “It means the doorway is close,” I said. “There’s a keyhole. The pear will light it up so that we can use the key to open the door.”

  “So where’s the door?” asked Marcos. “Where is it?”

  “Calm down,” I said. “I don’t know yet. Just keep your eye out for it, okay?”

  Marcos said okay. We kept going forward. In the distance, I could hear some dogs barking. It sounded like a lot of them. Maybe because I was nervous, I started to think of my old dog Misty, who was killed by car when I was very small. She used to bark when I came home. Loud, happy, joyful barks. I missed that. I’d really loved that dog.

  I shook myself. I couldn’t afford to be thinking about dogs right now. We were about to enter the court of the Korrigan Queen and I had to keep my eyes open for the keyhole. Where could it be?

  The barking seemed louder, though still distant. I wondered if some dogs were loose. Maybe they were running towards us … ?

  Not important. Search. Look. Keyhole. Focus. I just had to keep looking so that—

  “Found it,” said Marcos. “Give me the key.” He was pointing to a spot on the Hill that was glowing just like the pear. It was a keyhole, all right. Gold light spilled out of it, lighting up the whole side of the Hill. How had I missed that? Or had it grown brighter since I’d seen it? It seemed to be so bright now that it was brighter than daylight. But I couldn’t quite remember daylight. My whole life seemed fuzzy at the edges. I drew the key out of my pocket, thinking that the barking seemed awfully close now, and I fitted the key into the keyhole and turned it.

  The door opened out, pushed by ten ghostly dogs made of bones and fragments of skin and fur. Their teeth gleamed in the moonlight, and they barked and howled like the army of the dead. Marcos and I were startled as they leapt out of the doorway and onto us. Teeth sunk into my arm, into my shoulder. I went down, blood spurting.

  I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, but when I did, I couldn’t see anything but the glow of the dogs. Three of them were gnawing on me, their teeth worrying at my joints and muscles. My blood turned their bones crimson. It washed over them and disappeared into the blackness that surrounded them.

  I was pissed. Robin hadn’t said anything about this.

  The world was a dark place. The only thing in it was ghost dogs, and I was bleeding to death. In the back of my mind, I felt as though this should worry me for some reason. I also had a niggling suspicion that things had not always been this way. But I had evidence that this was all there was. This was all I could see, and I certainly couldn’t remember having even seen anything else. Nothing but blackness, skeleton dogs, and blood. That was life. Short, sweet, beautiful life. Almost over … .

  “Use pixie dust!” yelled a voice.

  That was strange. I could hear that person talking, but I couldn’t see him. Talking … that was something from before, wasn’t it? Before … when? I was confused. I had always been here. I had never been anywhere except—

  “Dumb fuck, throw your pixie dust on them!” yelled the voice.

  Yelled Keiler. The changeling.

  Shit! I was going to get eaten by the skeleton dogs! I fumbled for my pouch of pixie dust, pain blossoming with every move. The things were all over me, biting and gnawing at me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t fought them harder than I had. I’d just laid back and allowed them to bite me. Must be some kind of Fey magic. The same thing that had kept me in that room for five hours, undoubtedly. I managed to get at my pixie dust and I dumped it all over the skeleton dogs. Immediately, they let go of me and started to whine as they retreated.

  I pushed myself to my feet, my vision clearing so that I could once again tell that we were standing just outside the door to the Hill. An earthen door stood open, and white light streamed out from inside the Hill. I turned to see if Marcos was okay. He was bleeding too, but he was still holding Keiler, and he looked okay.

  “Thanks,” I said to Keiler. “I thought I was going to die.”

  “No problem,” said Keiler. “Didn’t they tell you about the dogs?”

  “No,” I said. “No one did.”

  “Let’s just get inside,” said Marcos. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

  I agreed. We crossed the threshold and strode into the Hill, one after the other. Inside, the walls were made of dirt. In fact, it seemed as if we were inside a tunnel in the hill. Dirt surrounded us and the walls of the tunnel were supported by snaking tree roots. The halls were all lit with a bright, ethereal light. It was brilliant. I felt as if I were having a near death experience, walking down the tunnel toward the light.

  Marcos and I didn’t say anything. We just kept walking. I wondered how we were going to find the Queen. Was it going to be obvious? Were we going to come out of the tunnel in a huge throne room, where she’d be sitting? What would she look like? What if it wasn’t easy to find her? What if we wandered around in these tunnels for our entire lives, never knowing if we’d get out or not? I shuddered at the thought. I wanted to say something to Marcos. I wanted him to reassure me that everything would be okay. But that seemed chicken and weak, so I kept it inside.

  But finally, a large doorway appeared around a bend in the tunnels. It was filled with the brilliant white light, brighter there than in the tunnel, and we walked to it, both of us, heads held high, neither showing any fear or hesitation.

  The door was painfully bright, and I wanted to pull back. I wanted to say, “Okay, Marcos, have it your way, you can go in alone. It is your kid, after all.” I almost did, until I noticed how tightly Marcos’ fingers were gripping Keiler. His knuckles had gone white. He was freaked out too. The thought reassured me. We needed each other. We’d be okay as long as we stuck together. This was going to be okay. I was sure of it.

  As we entered the doorway, the bright light disappeared, and we emerged into a large room with vaulted ceilings. It was like a ballroom, with polished wooden floors and very little furniture. There were a few long tables against the walls. The room was lit by little glowing globes that floated in the air.

  In the center of the room was a tall, tall woman. She had red hair the color of rubies or stop signs, and elongated features. A high forehead. An aristocratic nose. Thin, red lips. Her thin eyebrows rose disapprovingly as we entered the room, and she smoothed her long black skirt. It had a train, which turned into a swarm of bees at the end. They hovered together, flew together behind her like a tail or an entourage. On her head, she wore a crown of white moths and butterflies.

  The sight of her made my breath catch in my throat. She was beautiful but terrible, lovely but stern, delicate but gigantic, soft but frightening. She was the Korrigan Queen.

  I knew that because she said, “How dare you disturb the Korrigan Queen so close to the Equinox?”

  I took a step forward.

  “Stop,” said the Korrigan Queen, her voice echoing coldly throughout the room.

  As if the force of her words had frozen my body, I stopped in my tracks.

  “What brings you humans into my realm?” she asked. She said humans the way you might say garbage.

  “I want my baby back,” said Marcos.

  “Is that so?” said the Queen. “But I’m so close to the sacrifice. I
don’t want to give any of them up. They all look so delicious.”

  “You don’t eat the babies, do you?” I demanded in horror.

  The Queen smirked. “What did you bring me to trade?”

  Marcos and I exchanged a look, both of us confused. If I ever got out of this place, and I ever saw that Robin guy again, I think I might have to kill him. He hadn’t told us any of this shit.

  “Uh, we brought the changeling?” I suggested.

  The Queen yawned. “The changeling is mine if I want him,” she said. “Keiler, come to me.”

  Keiler began to fight his way out of Marcos’ arms.

  Marcos tightened his grip on Keiler. “What do you want to trade?”

  “I want the blood of the father of the baby,” said the queen.

  Keiler stopped struggling in Marcos’ arms. Marcos raised his eyebrows. “Blood, huh? All of it?”

  The queen smiled. “That would be nice,” she said.

  “No way,” I said. “That’s stupid. Marcos, don’t do it.”

  “Well, the baby is going to—” Marcos began

  “What about my blood?” I asked. “Can’t you use my blood instead?”

  “Are you the child’s father?” asked the Queen.

  “I might as well be,” I said. “I’m the one who’s been raising him.”

  “Blood,” said the Queen, “is beyond actions. It sings a sweeter, truer tale. Does your blood flow through this child’s veins?”

  “No,” I said. “But I’d give my life for him.” And I knew suddenly, that it was true.

  “No,” said Marcos. “Russ, you can’t.”

  I concentrated as hard as I could, and my legs could move again. I rushed at the Queen, as fast as I could.

  “Stop!” yelled Marcos.

  “Stop!” yelled the Queen.

  I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I kept going, and I would have collided with the Queen and given her all the blood she’d wanted, but I heard a baby wailing, and it sounded so close and so strange that I stopped to see where it was coming from.