And I was proud of him for it, though I couldn’t really say why. Maybe it was ‘cause I’d always thought somethin’ about taking people’s land and then killing them for retaliating didn’t make any sense. Or maybe I figured if people could be as cruel to a sweet girl like ‘Lana, that maybe we were on the wrong side of things. Especially if she really was half-something-else. Maybe, just maybe, they were all wrong about the Mystics.
And besides, weren’t nobody else on the face of the earth who had more honor than my Pa. None that I had met, anyway. So that was that. If he was a traitor, then I was too. I promised to keep my head down and stay out of trouble. A promise I’d actually managed to keep, until now.
***
“The kids believe what they were raised to, just like their parents before them,” Pa continued. “Most of ‘em aren’t even old enough to remember a life before the War. Most of them act out of ignorance rather than malice. Especially the children.”
“They act that way because they’re rotten!” I argued. “Gertrude always had it out for ‘Lana and you know it! No reason for it, neither. Besides, I wasn’t raised no different than the rest of them, not really, and I like ‘Lana just fine.”
“Yeah, well,” for the first time it felt like my smart-mouth had got the best of him. “You’re different than that lot, Luka. Always have been, always will be.” Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine.
A knock at the door stole his attention.
“Go clean yourself up,” he barked. Then, looking me over, “And stay in the back. Standing out is the last thing we need right now, you hear?” With that he turned to answer the door.
Don’t have to tell me twice. I shuffled to the back, relieved that our visitor seemed to have gotten me off the hook with a warning. I was almost all the way to my room when I heard a voice booming behind me.
“Closing up shop early today, Robert?” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. It wasn’t any of Pa’s regular customers, I was sure of that. Yet, the tone with which he greeted him suggested that they’d known each other a long time. I crept closer, pressing my ear against the wall so I could hear better.
“Might it have something to do with the boy’s scuffle this morning?”
My heart raced. I made a mental note to pummel Philip harder next time, so he couldn’t go wagging his tongue around town, the little snitch.
“Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t,” Pa said gruffly. “What’s it to you?”
“I thought we’d agreed he was to keep his head down.”
“Is that why you’re here, Brian? To keep tabs on the boy? Don’t you have your own family to look after?”
I knew well enough to know them was fightin’ words. Brian? Why did that name sound so familiar?
“You know I have more important matters to deal with than your son’s temper tantrums.”
“Watch yourself, old man,” Pa warned. “Just because Kala vouched for you doesn’t mean the rest of us have to like you. Let alone trust you any farther than we can kick you. Now tell me, what business do you have here?”
I held my breath, afraid that the force of it leaving my lungs might drown out the man’s reply.
“It’s the girl, Robert. She’s taken off.”
Chapter Eleven
“You lost her?!” Pa was tryin’ to keep his voice down, but he never was very good about keepin’ quiet once he got riled up. Instead what came out of his mouth was half-whisper, half-hiss. I was glad I wasn’t the one on the receivin’ end of it. I wondered who was.
“She ran off, Robert, left the safehold. Word only got to me three days ago now. I was hoping I might find her here.”
By now I was certain they were talkin’ about ‘Lana. What with there bein’ talk of a safehold. And the stranger’s voice? I was sure I had heard it before, and more than once. I held my breath, tryin’ to avoid drawing attention to myself as I nudged open the door that separated the shop from our living space. Maybe if I could just get a little look at the visitor…
I let out my breath slowly, careful that my relief didn’t rush out and give me away. Pa’s back was turned away, which was just fine except for the fact that he was also blocking my view. Drat.
“We’ve seen no sign of her ‘round these parts.” Pa said. “I hope she’s got enough sense to keep it that way, for everyone’s sake”
“Aye, that’s what I was hoping as well. Are you sure she hasn’t contacted the boy?”
“He’d have told me, if she had.”
“Mind if I ask him myself?” He didn’t wait for Pa to answer. “Come on out, boy.”
My heart froze in my chest. I’d gotten off easy for my scuffle with Philip, but eavesdroppin’ would get me a lashin’ for sure.
“S’alright boy, I won’t hurt you,” The stranger mistook my hesitation for fear of him.
I swallowed hard and squared my shoulders, hopin’ that I looked braver than I felt as I stepped through the doorway. Pa shot me a look that could curdle milk straight out of the cow, before wavin’ me over to join him. I knew better than to keep him waiting.
The first thing I noticed about our visitor was the smell. He had the stench of a man who had been long on the road with little care. A vagrant, perhaps? Or a trader with no home to return to.
The second thing I noticed as I examined his disheveled clothes, wild hair, and overgrown beard, was that he wasn’t a stranger at all. Indeed, I had seen him in the city on more than a handful of occasions.
“Yer ‘Lana’s granddad,” I said, matter-a-fact-like.
“So I am,” the corners of the man’s eyes wrinkled as a smirk ran across his face. “And you, youngling, were her best friend.”
“Damn right I was! Still am!”
“Language, son!” Pa smacked my shoulder, but Lana’s grandad laughed.
“I take no offense, Robert. I like the boy’s spirit. Always have.” He spoke as if we’d known each other my whole life, but I had no such recollection of him. I scanned the lines of his leathery face, waiting for something beyond a vague recognition to come to me. Nothin’
“I told you to stay in the back, Luka,” Pa turned to me, a brow raised in disapproval. I cast my eyes to the ground sheepishly.
“I know, I just… I heard you two talkin’ and it seemed like maybe it was about her and…I couldn’t help but find out for sure.”
“Go easy on him, Robert. You can’t fault the boy his affection.
Affection? “Ew, no!” I slammed both my hands over my mouth, tryin’ to trap the words before they made it all the way out, but I was too late. “I mean…no offense or nothin’, but ‘Lana and I, we’re just friends. An’ she’s been missin’ with no word and…well I’m just worried about her is all. Got nothin’ to do with ‘affections’.”
The man threw back his head, laughin’ heartily. “Ah, to be young again!” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Boy, affections come in all forms, as I’m sure you’ll soon learn. One does not have to have a romantic interest in order to hold someone dear.” The corners of his lips turned upward, shifting his tangled beard around it. “Although, as the years go on, you may find your mind changes where romance is concerned.”
“That’s enough, Brian.” Pa nodded his head toward the back of the shop. “Back to your room with ya, Luka. Let us finish our talk.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Brian argued. “He has a right to know what’s happening just as much as anyone else does.”
“He’s too young.”
“He’s older than my ‘Lana, and none thought twice before putting her in the position she’s in.”
“That is an entirely different situation, and you know it!”
“’Tis not so much, considering the boy’s heritage.”
“STOP!” Pa’s voice shook the room, causin’ me to jump clear outta my skin. I hadn’t heard him raise his voice to no one but me in…I didn’t know how long.
“You mean you still haven’t told him?”
“I said enough, Brian.” He hissed like a kettle about to boil.
“He has a right to know, Robert. Especially now.”
“It’s nobody’s business what I tell my son. Least of all, yours!”
Lana’s grandad ran a hand through his hair, lookin’ down at his feet. Pat had struck a chord, for sure; but instead of respondin’ in anger, Brian seemed ashamed.
“Pa, what’s he talkin’ about?” The words were out of my mouth before I could talk myself out of them.
“Nothing that you need concern yourself with, son.” His words were chosen carefully, and his jaw set in a way that told me the matter was not up for discussion. It only made the desire to know burn more fiercely in my chest.
“Sounds more like exactly the sort of thing I should be concernin’ myself with.” I felt only a twinge of regret as the words left my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time I talked back to Pa. Still, I squared my shoulders as he locked eyes with me, and raised my head high, determined to stand my ground the way a man would. Maybe if he thought of me less like a child, just maybe then he would see fit to let me in on whatever secret he was keepin’.
“Is it about Ma?” I asked. “Does it have somethin’ to do with her leavin’? Is that why you don’t want to talk about it?” I was sure I’d earn myself a lashin’, but I didn’t care anymore. I was sick of pretendin’ she never left.
“Her leaving had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with herself,” Pa’s voice was firm to shield the hurt that Ma’s memory brought to the corners of his eyes. He turned his attention back to Brian.
“See what you’ve started, old man?”
“You knew this day would come, Robert. We both did. I tried to warn you—”
“And I’ll say it again: The boy is none of your concern!”
“You can’t keep it from him forever, you know. One of these days he’ll find out, whether it’s from you or from one of them.”
One of who? “Pa, what’s he talkin’ about?”
His eyes were locked with Brian, and he acted as if I hadn’t spoke, “Go to your room, Luka.”
My eyes moved between the two men, unsure of what to do. Brian looked nervous, like an animal that’s caught sight of a hunter as they try to figure out whether they can run before they’re felled. Pa stared him down, shoulders squared like he was daring him to run. Like he’d have run him down and caught him.
Except it would have been better if he’d taken off, rather than what happened next. Pa snapped his fingers at me, keeping his eyes on Lana’s granddad as he waved me off. As I turned to go, Brian’s voice followed me.
“Robert’s not your real Pa.”
***
Pa had Brian up against the wall before I could blink.
“You hold your tongue you dirty—"
“This is bigger than you, Robert! Bigger than either of us, or our egos. The boy has to know, and he has to know NOW!” Brian held his hands up, refusing to fight back.
“Pa?” My voice came out raspy, on account of my mouth goin’ dry. I licked my lips, willing myself to raise my voice above a whisper, “Is it true?”
Pa hung his head and sighed before turnin’ to me. I held my breath, waiting for reassurance. Surely Brian was mistaken? Maybe he’d been out in the sun too long, or maybe he’d been hittin’ the bottle. I just knew that Pa would say the man had gone mad. He had to!
Pa laid a hand on my shoulder, motioning to a wooden stool by the door where customers would wait for their orders. “Sit down, boy.” I obeyed.
“Well, old man,” he said to Brian. “It seems you’ve started a thing that can’t be undone.” A chill went through my body, making my hands and feet tingle.
“He’ll want to hear it from you, Philip.”
“Ruddy figures you’d chicken out, you damned fool.” Pa sighed and knelt down in front of me.
“Luka, whatever comes after this moment I want you to know this: I am and always will be your Pa. Whether you’re my flesh and blood or not.”
“I-I don’t understand,” I stammered, gripping the edge of the stool so I wouldn’t melt right off of it.
“Luka,” Brian’s voice softened, and he placed a hand on Pa’s shoulder in solidarity. “You’re a Changeling.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’m a what?” I stood with my mouth agape like some fool.
“A changeling,” Brian repeated. “A child of the fairy-folk.”
It wasn’t that I was havin’ trouble understandin’ what he’d said. The words were clear as day. I knew what fairy-folk were. Heck, I’d even heard the term Changeling once or twice growing up, though it wasn’t somethin’ we learnt about in our teachings about Mystics.
“This is some joke, right?” Either that or Pa’s gone off his rocker, I thought. Maybe all those years of dealin’ with my shenanigans had finally got to him, and now he was tryin’ to make off like I was adopted.
“No son, it’s no joke.” Pa’s voice was dead serious. “You see, Alison had just given birth, not two weeks before.” His voice cracked. I’d not heard him speak about Ma in ages, and never did he use her name that way.
“She and the babe both fell ill. The city doc did what he could, but—” he blinked, eyes glistening. Was Pa crying? Pa didn’t cry. Weren’t no reason to, neither. Ma and I had both turned out just fine, hadn’t we?
“The babe was too new,” Brian took over for Pa. “Too weak. The doc told your parents there was no way it would survive.”
Pa’s mind came back from wherever it had drifted off to. “And then, one morn’ I went to the babe’s cot to…a miracle. There he was; fresh, strong. It was as if the sickness never took hold of him.”
I didn’t know what kind of miracle could have saved me from Death’s grasp, or why Pa was still so torn up about a thing that had happened a lifetime ago, but a sinking in my stomach told me I shouldn’t have pressed so hard for him to tell me.
“I knew it, then,” Pa continued. “I knew, but I would not—could not—accept it. What parent in their right mind could question the fates? We’d been given our boy back.” He looked to me as if asking for absolution. As if, somehow, I was the only one who could grant it.
“Alison had her suspicions, of course. A mother knows her own son. But the illness, and her grief…I think it was too much. Over time, she accepted it too.”
“Accepted what?” I squeaked. He continued as if I hadn’t spoken.
“And then came the colic. You were up all hours, screamin’ your little head off. Some said it was normal, a result of the illness even. But I knew better, I just did. So I removed all the iron from the house, and the screaming stopped.”
“But, I don’t—?”
“Our son, our baby boy. They’d taken him. Switched him out. Replaced him with one of their own young.”
My mind swam as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Me, some impish freak-type? I mean, sure I was a handful, but surely Pa couldn’t have gone that far over the edge.
“Pa?” I said hesitantly, “You haven’t been into the ale this mornin’, have ya?” It wasn’t often that he would take to the bottle, but now and again, if he were really missin’ Ma, I’d seen him have a swig or two durin’ the daytime.
“What?” he looked at me, as if he was seein’ me for the first time. “Luka, I’m being serious!”
“Alright then,” I held my arms up in exasperation, “If I am some sort of fairy folk, then where are my wings?”
&
nbsp; Brian threw his head back and guffawed, “oh, this is the age, isn’t it? Where they think they know all there is to know about everything!”
Pa just shook his head.
“’Course you don’t have wings, you ninny,” Brian continued. “A Changeling is meant to blend in. ‘Tis part of the magic. If you don’t fit in, you can’t stay hidden, and then they have to switch you out again. It’s a banishment, not a death sentence, after all!”
“Is that what ‘Lana was, then? A changeling?” The laughter stopped. I guessed that meant no.
Something else occurred to me. “How can I be here then, if I’m really a changeling?” I motioned to the tools that surrounded us. “Iron, all of it. Why aren’t I writhing in agony? How could I be the blacksmith’s son?”
“Your father was not always a blacksmith, boy.”
I looked at Pa. Not always a blacksmith? What had he been, before me? I had never known him to be anything other than what he was.
“When I was sure,” Pa answered my thoughts before I could turn them into words. “Absolutely certain that you were what I suspected…it was too late. You were my son, as much as the other babe had been. I could not bear to lose another child. As soon as you weaned from your mother we went away, just the two of us, when you were still a wee thing. Slowly, I began building your tolerance to iron. It was slow going, and painful for both of us. You screeched like a banshee those first few days. Sometimes you’d retreat to the corner, refusing to let me come near you. It broke my heart to hurt you. Shattered it to pieces. But it had to be done, to protect you.”
“Protect me? How?” I couldn’t fathom how torturing a small child in such a way—human or not—could have been for its own protection. I looked upon the man that I called Pa with wide, horrified eyes. My mind didn’t want to accept a thing that he was saying, but neither could it resist hearin’ the whole story.
“Eventually you were able to tolerate the presence of iron, and even salt in small servings. You came home to your Ma a new child. You no longer shied away when people came to visit. You functioned like every other human child, save for your temper, and love of mischief and sweets.”
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