by Louisa Lo
Eldratha, the elf queen, covered her delicate nose and said in disgust, “What is that smell?”
She must have had a super-sensitive nose, for even after she said it, it took another few seconds before the odor hit me. It was the stink of ten thousand unwashed socks all in one punch.
The ground shook at my feet as the groans of ill-tempered beasts filled the entire neighborhood block.
“Mee wand san veng ginze, too!”
“Veng ginze gooood!”
Oh crap, ogres. Looked like they got wind of the all-access pass, too. Who had ever heard of them checking tweets?
Chapter Eight
The Essence of Chaos
FROM WHAT I UNDERSTOOD from animated movies, humans paint ogres in a rather romanticized light. Sure, they were supposed to be violent and destroyed everything in their paths, but turned out they were simply misunderstood.
In reality, the stereotype regarding ogres was pretty much correct. There wasn’t much heroic or off-beat charming about them. They were dumb as soup and attracted to conflicts like a trickster to chaos. For all they knew, veng ginze was a type of pizza. They heard about it, and now they wanted it because everybody else did.
As a pair of ogres tore around the corner of the street, uprooting a cedar tree the width of a garden shed in their path, I stole a glance at the others around me. Eldratha and the Three Fates looked ready to flee; the Three Fates had taken out their return bus passes, as if clutching onto them tightly would make their means of escape appear out of thin air. The elf queen was already waving her hands at the earth, presumably trying to re-open her passage in the lawn. The pair of ogres—no, wait, make that two pairs—roared and headed straight for us like monstrously oversized quarterbacks.
Only Greexet and his goblins seemed excited by the prospect of the impending fight. If I thought they’d already taken out most of their weapons during our brief scuffle earlier, I was dead wrong. They had barely gotten started. The goblins now pulled out swords, knives, and daggers from every part of their bodies, many of which made me wonder how they could have survived as a race given the need to sit down or bend down at some point in their lives.
The ogres, towering monsters over ten feet tall, smashed through the white picket fence, taking out ours and the neighbor’s, and proceeded to trample across the lawn. Didn’t they learn from HGTV how expensive sodding was? Didn’t they know how hard it was to get neighbors to agree to chip in for the fencing? It was unforgivable.
I felt a tug at my sleeve just as I started calling on my vengeance power, like Gregory and Sui-Ling already had.
“Try reaching for your trickster power, sister,” Fir whispered in my ear.
Where the heck had he come from? I didn’t remember seeing him around me. My entire focus was on the ogres, mind you, but I would like to think I’d notice if someone got close enough to me to be whispering in my ear.
“Come on, Megan, for the sake of Fleur,” my half-brother hissed.
I took his advice and tapped into the naughty, fun-loving side of me, though I had no idea how that was supposed to help me in a fight with the—
In a fight with the what, exactly? Once I allowed my trickster side to take over I could see that there was no damage to the lawn except where the goblins set up camp.
No gigantic ogre feet. No mighty ogre roars. No awful ogre odor.
No ogres at all.
Everything was an illusion, created by a spell I could now recognize as one of Fir’s latest creations called the Blind Panic.
The aim of the spell was to create and feed chaos, and that, it did. With my trickster side allowing me to actually look, I could see now that everyone was running around, fighting or fleeing the fake monsters, while ignoring the perfectly visible Eldon and Serafina heading our way. They carried the duffle bags that I had packed earlier and were smiling. Fir must have made sure that she and Eldon were immune to the influence of the Blind Panic spell.
“Alright”—I turned to Fir—“this probably seems like the wrong time to ask, but why? What are you really up to?”
I needed to know why my half-brother suddenly wanted to help us, because it wasn’t the first time I fell victim to his trickster nature. He loved me to pieces, but he was prone to throw me over for a really good round of trickery. Memories from the Aequitas ball he crashed were still fresh in my mind.
“Always so suspicious.” Fir put his hand over his chest as if he was heartbroken, but I wasn’t moved. For all I knew it could all be an act. “I assure you, my intentions are completely noble.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Alright, they are noble because I get something out of it, too,” Fir corrected. “Eldon is family.”
“What the heck are you talking about? What family?” I asked incredulously. “His plane has been closed since almost the beginning of time. You’d never seen him in your life until now.”
“Yes, but according to our oral history all the great deceivers of the Cosmic Balance such as tricksters, cuckoos, and changelings are distant cousins. And family helps out each other. Besides”—he shrugged—“if word got out that I allowed Eldon to be captured, it’d be bad for my rep. We can’t afford for him to be punished. What if the rest of the world sees this and gets the idea to start going after the rest of us? We have to stick together.”
As he spoke, the scene before us became even more chaotic. Clotho and Lachesis were fighting with Eldratha in a desperate bid to get into the earth passage the latter had opened up. Taking advantage of the elf queen’s reluctance to cast spells given the tight space, the elderly Fates were downright dirty in their fighting. There was a lot of name-calling and face scratching. Then, with a mighty yell, Clotho grabbed a lock of Eldratha’s pale blond hair and pulled.
And ended up with the elf queen’s wig in her hands.
The look on Eldratha’s face as she touched the short, spiky, jet black hair poking out of her head was so hilarious, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. It was like that actress who played the platinum blonde heroine in the Game of Thrones; she was a natural brunette.
Atropos, unlike her other two sisters, chose the fight option rather than flight. She aimed a very unladylike kick to Greexet’s groin, and promptly took a couple of his swords for her own protection against the ogres she thought were still coming for her. I wondered what the little old lady thought she could manage with them, until I remembered that this was a woman who had spent eons doing nothing but cutting threads. She ought to know her way around sharp objects.
Then, as if my parents’ poor lawn wasn’t crowded enough, one hunched figure appeared, teleporting to land just at the edge.
Once the dust settled, I could see that the new arrival was a troll carrying a leprechaun, who carried a brownie with an array of pixies and fairies clinging to his hat and hair.
Wait. Troll, leprechaun, brownie, pixies, and fairies? When did I see that combination of supernaturals just recently?
Gregory’s Exhibit A.
The group of supernaturals hovered around the edge of the lawn. Maybe they didn’t have Miss Neringa’s access pass. Maybe they got used to keeping their distance from the mighty vengeance demons. Either way, rather than coming any closer, they called out to Gregory.
Gregory was doing this strange dance where he was dodging imaginary ogres and collecting all the legal documents scattered by everyone at the same time. I almost laughed at the sight of his beautiful leather briefcase getting dented by the trampling goblins, and his precious documents smudged with dirty footprints of all sizes.
“Where is he?” The young brownie jumped at his spot, trying to see past the goblins, which were at least five inches taller than him. He looked so hopeful and earnest. If I didn’t know better I’d say he was asking after a pony, not a changeling he contracted someone to capture and get revenge on.
The troll beat his chest. “Me. Want. Change-chee-lane.”
“Is he ready for vengeance now?” The high-pitched voice of a purple-w
inged fairy carried over all the other sounds.
Gregory dived around the feet of an imaginary ogre and reached his clients, the briefcase clutched to his chest. “You guys shouldn’t be here.”
“We want to be here.” One of the pixies said in a sad voice, “Our great-great-aunt was captured by a changeling just before he returned home. We never knew what became of her.”
The leprechaun frowned at the chaos surrounding them. “I didn’t expect to see ogres. Ogres! What are they doing here?”
“I’d like to know, too,” Gregory muttered.
I didn’t bother listening to the rest of the clients questioning and pleading with Gregory. Those were his clients, after all, not mine. Gruff or emotional, they were his to handle.
Take that, traitorous jerk!
While the chaos continued in the yard, I let Fir tug me away. He led our little group toward the swan-shaped birdbath.
I stared in disbelief as Fir stopped in front of the birdbath and twisted the stone swan’s neck to the right with an audible click, making it angled in such an unnatural manner that it looked like someone had offed the poor creature, which would have been ghastly if its tongue wasn’t rolling out in a totally goofy way.
The water of the basin drained away, revealing a cross-dimensional threshold.
“I found a loophole in the fine print of that spell Dad used to ward the house. I made this passage a long time ago to sneak beer in,” Fir explained, then he winced. “Such a tough spell to crack, and our friendly neighborhood giantess bypassed it all with a twitter mention. There’s something to be learned here.”
“Maybe another day. Let’s just get out of here for now,” I urged.
Eldon stumbled back from the cross-dimensional threshold and looked at Fir with genuine regret and a hint of embarrassment. “I appreciate the help, but I won’t be able to go through that.”
“I know all about your restrictions, cousin.” Fir leaned closer and winked. “This one doesn’t cross to other planes, only crossing distances within this one. I fixed it to a pedicure spa across town.”
Eldon breathed out with relief. “Thank you.”
“Thank me after you get through. It’s going to be a tight squeeze. I did the best I could, but I’m afraid the passage is only as wide as the actual size of the water basin. I have to sneak the beer in, drink them, and lose some weight with the treadmill before I can go get more again.”
I eyed the water basin, which was barely wide enough to fit a brownie through. Fir was right. It was going to be tough to get through it. Damn my child-bearing hips.
Chapter Nine
The Perfect Image
FOR A FINAL DISTRACTION to cover our departure, Fir created an illusion of a much-better-groomed version of Eldon—glossy hair, fancy royal outfit, rosy cheeks—and projected him smack into the middle of the lawn. It was the perfect image of what one might expect of a fae prince, had he not been found half-dead in a dark alley and hunted by creatures both light and dark.
Everyone caught by the Blind Panic spell paused, then turned away from each other and started going after Fake Eldon.
“Wait—” Gregory nearly got trampled as the troll bulldozed past him, followed by the leprechaun and the brownie. I was suddenly reminded of the first time I met Gregory, when his client—an overweight woman in a shapeless, yellow polka dot dress—charged toward him, almost going over the balcony and taking him with her.
Man, the guy didn’t have a lot of luck with his clients.
One of the pixies caught her wings in a thread dangling from Gregory’s button and, impatient to rush off, yanked herself free by burning a clear section of Gregory’s shirt off. I ought to be focusing on Fir, who was having a heck of a time squeezing through the basin passage with his pot belly, or at the very least take a moment to admire the impressive display of hard coiled muscles on Gregory’s partly bare torso, but the tattoos on his chest caught my undivided attention.
In the vengeance demon world, females centered their power using the pearls in their earrings. The male equivalent of this practice was a little more different. At the Becoming—the vengeance version of the bar mitzvah—the guys receive an elaborate tattoo over their chests. Spells are woven right into the patterns, which encourages mental clarity and the focusing of power. With Gregory’s chest exposed, I realized that we had another thing in common—a seemingly half-ass Becoming gift. Back when Grandma was pretending not to love me, she gave me a necklace made of a single pearl that was supposed to be a diss on my Becoming. Of course, I’d since then found out that the single pearl held more power than the standard issue earrings, but there was no doubt that the half-finished design on Gregory’s chest was meant as anything but an insult.
I took a moment to examine it further. While the protective spells in the center of the pattern were intact and probably fully functional, the designs on either side were anything but. On the left side of the tattoo was a dragon, symbolizing loyalty. The outline of the dragon was complete, but only a random scale or two on its body was inked, and it was done so with dull-looking dye. The whole thing was a far cry from the norm, which involved a riot of vibrant colors filling every space of the design. As for the right side, well, it was supposed to be a proud declaration of the vengeance house that the person belonged to. On Gregory’s chest it was deliberately vague. I could make out an oval shape that could either be a shield or a cauldron with twin stars on it, and something on top of it that could either be an upright sword or a dagger. Or a Popsicle stick. Though I doubted it.
It was as if the tattoo artist had to leave to use the bathroom and never came back to finish the job.
This was a direct homage to Gregory’s bastard status. Saying loud and clear: “We have no choice but to give you vengeance power, but don’t you dare think for a second you could ever be one of us.”
I could identify with that.
With Fir finally through the passage and pulling Serafina from the other end, Eldon was next. Still getting used to his newly functional body, he looked at the three foot high basin as if he wasn’t quite sure how to climb to the top of it. I kneeled in front of him and patted my thigh, gesturing him to use it as a step stool. He looked at me gratefully.
“Don’t get used to it,” I warned. “This is the first and last time I’m going to kneel to your royal-pain-in-the-ass highness.”
That brought a smile to his face as he placed one foot on my thigh and braced his hands on the edge of the basin. “Have no worry. I would not expect you to—”
Then he was yanked off me by Sui-Ling. From the furious look she sent my way as she held Eldon by his throat, she had somehow managed to see through Fir’s illusion.
“Enough games. We’re at the close, dear.”
Chaos still reigned all around us, meaning the spell held for everybody else. With Fir and Serafina already gone from the lawn, by the time I jumped onto my feet it was too late. Sui-Ling had conjured up a portal and disappeared into it with Eldon.
Damn.
PART TWO
THE CHANGELING INHERITANCE
Chapter Ten
Beyond Omission
“MEGAN, HOW COME YOU two didn’t follow us?” Serafina pushed herself out of the basin, returning to this side of the portal. Fir followed shortly after. She looked around in alarm. “Where’s Eldon?”
I opened my mouth to answer her. I needed to tell her what happened, but at the same time assure her that all was not lost. Sui-Ling wouldn’t dare do anything to Eldon until her superiors had finished negotiating with the Council. We had time to fix this.
Before I could get the words out, a second passage opened up right behind Serafina, and out stepped Grandma Aequitas and Sui-Ling.
Yet something was wrong.
Rather than her mesmerizing dragonhide cat suit, Sui-Ling was now wearing a sweatshirt and yoga pants that were two sizes too big for her.
And Eldon was nowhere in sight.
“Gran, what’s going on?” I rushed to her
.
“Where’s Eldon?” She looked around the lawn at the chaos surrounding us.
“Gone.” I jabbed a finger Sui-Ling’s way. “She took him.”
“No, I didn’t.” Sui-Ling shook her head, her disheveled hair a mess. Wasn’t it smooth and sleek just moments ago?
“Why the heck are you denying it? I saw you!” I accused.
“No. What you saw was someone who looked like me. An imposter.”
“What?” Serafina, Fir, and I shouted at the same time.
“I ran into Sui-Ling, this real one in front of me, on my way to see the Council,” Grandma explained. “She had just been attacked and was trying to seek our assistance.”
“I got wind of the changeling and was on my way here when an assailant sneaked up on me. She knocked me out and took my outfit.” Sui-Ling crossed her arms and dug her nails in her animal-printed sweatshirt in disgust, tapping her kitten-heel boots. Some Good Samaritan with questionable fashion sense must have lent her that top and the baggy yoga pants. It was a long way to fall from the skintight, magically-enhancing dragonhide. It would be kinda funny, if it was under any other circumstance.
I couldn’t believe that the girl who took Eldon wasn’t the same as this one who was currently in my presence. Physically they were identical, down to the dark hair which fell to her waist like a curtain, disheveled or otherwise. Whoever the imposter was, she’d perfected the trickster charm called the Lookalike, or something similar to it.
“Were you able to see what the assailant looked like?” Grandma asked.
“No, I didn’t get a good look. She jumped me from behind.”