Changelings

by Anne McCaffrey

  Murel thought that in her sleep she felt her father’s kiss on her forehead and a sudden drop of water, warm as it fell into her hair.

  Ronan dreamed of wolves and did not realize that the touch brushing his face as lightly as a warm breeze was his father’s kiss until it was gone. Then, half awake, he became aware of a strange sound from the other room. It was his mother, so stony-faced earlier in the night, sobbing as if her heart were broken.

  MOST OF THE day was suspiciously normal—even better than normal. Father made them a delicious breakfast of blueberry pancakes made with berries stored from the previous summer, caribou sausage, and rose hip tea. Mother was not much of a cook, but after they cleaned up the dishes, she gave them identical presents.

  Murel examined the outside of the little hard-bound journal when her mother handed it to her. A diary? It was not very special-looking. But when she opened it, she saw that it was already filled with her mother’s writing, including some odd charts and symbols.

  “What’s this, Mum?” Ronan asked.

  “I thought you were old enough for it now. It’s everything I know about my side of the family, including the stories about the origin of your middle names and what they were called in my mother’s language.” She turned to one of the charts. “This is a family tree—two branches, my mother’s and my father’s. My mother’s people consider all of the children and all of the houses and land to belong to the women. Also, everybody belonged to one clan or the other. In the old days, people didn’t like to give their proper names because your own personal name is like your arm or your hair or anything else of your person that an enemy could grab onto and hold you with. So they introduced themselves to each other by giving their lineage—who their mother’s clan was and who their father’s clan was. The way they put it, you were born ‘to’ your mother’s people, as you were most directly tied to your mother. You were born ‘for’ your father’s people because the mother brought her children into the world for the father. Since my father was of Irish descent, I don’t have a clan on his side—no ‘born for’ clan, only a ‘born to’ clan, that of my mother’s relations, the Far Walking Diné. So this is the same clan you have. If you ever meet someone else who is of my mother’s people and they know that your mother is half Diné—or Navajo, as our people were known to others—they may ask you about your clans and tell you theirs. What would you tell them?”

  “That our mother was born to the Far Walking Diné and born for our Irish grandpa?” Murel answered.

  “This is pretty cool!” Ronan said, thumbing through the book before laying it back on the table.

  Murel was puzzled. “Why did you write this stuff all down, Mum? We can’t even read some of the words yet. I like it when you tell us stories about when you were a little girl and your family and everything. If we meet someone from your mother’s people, we would just bring them home to meet you.”

  Mother’s smile faded, and Murel said, “But it’s a really great gift. I didn’t mean that. It was really nice of you to do this. I just don’t understand why is all.”

  Mother nodded once. “Surely you remember what day it is, pet? It’s your birthday, yours and Ronan’s. Today you are eight years old. Eight is two times four, which is the number of the four directions, the four elements, and a very special number to my mother’s people. It is time for you to know these things.”

  Their journals lay forgotten at home, however, when Da proposed the most wonderful part of the day. He wanted to go swim with them and have them show him where they’d met the otters and seen the wolves.

  Wow, we picked a good time to get born, Ronan told his sister. I thought they’d punish us for going too far yesterday, and instead, I guess they have decided we’re old enough to do what we want to because all of a sudden we’re getting everything we’ve been wanting.

  Yeah, funny, isn’t it? And a special latchkay tonight too. Even on our birthday, you’d think they’d make us take naps instead of Da going swimming with us.

  The trip downriver to the otter den was much faster now. Not only did they know where they were going, they could predict, more or less, where the ice widened and narrowed, and that helped. Also, during the wide-open stretches, Da raced with them or used the straps holding their suits on their backs to tow them, while his sleek and powerful body carried them so fast, the water streamed through their teeth and left a bubbly wake behind them.

  They showed their father the maze of tunnels the otter had led them through the day before, but it was all messed up. The ceiling was caved in the length of the central tunnel and the whole area smelled funny. Not like otters.

  Ronan sent out a mental call anyway. Hey, Otter. It’s us, the seals who save otters from otter-eating wolves. We brought our father to meet you. He doesn’t eat otters either.

  But there was no answer. Da swam around back and forth, sliding up onto the ice where he could and looking at the entire complex. He sniffed and turned his head to scan the trees on the horizon. But he was also looking at the snow, which was trampled with what looked like human footprints.

  Da slid out of the maze back into the water.

  Murel ventured a guess. She was pretty sure she was wrong, but maybe it would get Da to tell them what he thought. The wolves know where they were living, she said. So I think they moved.

  These wolves each had two legs and wore military-issue snow boots, Da said. See there? He turned his head toward a glint in the trees.

  What’s that? she asked.

  Surveillance equipment of some kind. Did you kids change on the way here at all?

  Yes, but only a couple of times, and not for very long.

  They know about you, Da said seriously. Someone told them the circumstances of your birth, and they’ve been watching ever since, off and on. That’s why we’ve always had the cats go with you. Come on, let’s get out of here.

  What did they do to the otters? Ronan asked.

  I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe they just scared them off when they came tramping around looking for you two. But we need to go now. If they’re still watching this spot, they’ll be here with dope darts in a moment. Dive below the ice and swim as long as you can. We’ll make new breathing holes on the way upriver too. Don’t want them tracking us with the old ones.

  But before they made their first breathing hole, they heard a familiar mind-voice.

  Hah! Ronan, Murel! Hah! It’s me, the otter who is friend to brave wolf-scaring river seals who are sometimes human. Wait! Wait! I have a thing to tell you. Hah!

  Murel somersaulted in the water and swam back to meet the otter.

  We brought our da to meet you, Otter, but your lovely tunnels are all messed up. What happened to them? Where are the hundred otters with the big sharp teeth?

  Gone, all gone, Murel who attacks wolves. When the sled woman took you away, we hurried to our dens in case the wolves decided to return. But then came men with big feet and big nets and guns that shot sharp things bringing sleep. Hah! I cried out to warn the others and dove deep but other otters did not. My mother was taken and my siblings and cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles on both sides of the family. At first they bit and scratched, but the men shot them with sharp things and they no longer moved. The men took them, all of my family. Ruined our house and took my family.

  All one hundred otters? Murel asked.

  All the otters except me. Otters need families, and mine is all gone now. I tried to follow, but the men had those noise-sleds that are fast as an avalanche. Otters are very fast, but I could not catch them.

  Da? Ronan turned to his father. You and Mum are the governors. Make those men bring the otters back, huh?

  I can try, son, but not while you two are with me. Who do you think they really wanted to catch anyway? Probably as soon as they find out that the otters remain otters all the time, they’ll let them go. They do, don’t they?

  What?

  Remain otters all the time?

  Otter said, “Oh yes, Fat
her River Seal, my family remain otters at all times. They are always otters. There have been stories about my cousins on the coast, but river otters are different. We are always otters.

  I’ll do what I can, Otter. But those men are not acting under my authority. They had no legal right to take your family. I will have to come back later with more men and if possible make them let your family go.

  I will go with you then and come back to show you where the men went, Otter told them.

  There’s no need, Da said. We’ll find you again tomorrow.

  Maybe you will and maybe not, Otter said. But meanwhile I am alone and have no one to play with. Otters are not supposed to be alone. Otters need to be with others, even if the others are river seals.

  You might not like our part of the river, Da said. He seemed to want to get rid of the otter.

  Oh, let him come, Da. He’s our friend. We’ll take care of him, Murel said.

  He can sleep with me, Ronan said. I’ll make a den for him under my covers.

  He’s not a pet, Da said. Your mother—

  Mother will love him, and we know he’s not a pet. He’s our friend. We have to help him.

  I’ll help him but he isn’t going all the way home with us. He can stay in the river, as he said, and return with my party to find the poachers. Then he’ll be with his own family again.

  Ronan started to protest. Da was being uncommonly firm and unyielding, and there was something very grim and sad in his thoughts, but it skittered away before Ronan could read it.

  That will be good, Murel and Ronan. You can come and play again and I can be your swimming guide, as you asked. And all of my family will guide you too if you bring them back. We will go see my cousins on the coast and they will show you the sea.

  Oh, Da, can we? the twins asked, but Da swam hard upstream and did not answer.

  Otter raced the twins back up the river, and even though they were swimming against the current, they got home only a little after suppertime. Since they’d all snacked on fish throughout the day, none of them were hungry. Outside of town, Da climbed out of the water, shook himself dry, and put on the human clothes he’d hidden in a tree by the riverbank, while Ronan and Murel put on their shiny suits from Marmie. Otter dove down to inspect the riverbank.

  Thin ice and many holes in the bank, he reported when he popped his head up again. Good holes for otter dens. Not as good as the home ones, but good enough for now.

  Good night, Otter, Murel and Ronan said. They turned and waved, and Otter looked at them with large eyes that once more seemed a bit sad. Then he leapt in the air, did a somersault, and dove underwater again.

  CHAPTER 8

  ONE LAST SURPRISE before the latchkay was that Marmie herself had arrived while they were gone. The tall, elegant woman with the curling dark hair and the impish smile greeted them with hugs.

  “The suits fit you beautifully! I was just sure they’d be far too big,” she said.

  “They work a treat too,” Ronan told her. “We didn’t get a bit cold after we put them on.”

  “That was the general idea,” she said, laughing.

  “I think maybe even wolves can’t bite through them,” Murel told her, knowing that someone as important as Marmie would like to have useful information about her gift.

  “Now, how did you get a chance to learn that, I shudder to wonder?” Marmie asked.

  “We were saving otters,” Murel said. “But then after we left they were otter-napped by some men. Da’s going to make the men bring the otters back, though, probably tomorrow.”

  “Otter-napping? My goodness, I have missed Petaybee. I forgot how exciting it can be here. Well, we don’t have any otter-nappings where I live but I bet you’d find it exciting too.”

  “Do you really live on a space station, Marmie?” Murel asked.

  “Yes, a very nice space station. You’d like it. I just had a lovely pool installed at my home. It runs all through and around my house, and there’s a big deep part for diving. I had it all landscaped so it looks like a natural stream flowing through the woods.”

  “That sounds nice,” Murel said politely. But she thought it was sort of odd to live on a space station and try to make it look like the woods. Why not just live in the real woods?

  Ronan was thinking the same thing. “We can take you to the woods while you’re here, Marmie, anytime you want.”

  She gave him a hug. “You are doing just that. I’m going to the latchkay with you.”

  “Ronan, Murel, come get dressed,” their mother called. “I’ve things for you to carry.”

  I wish we could just swim to the springs and go into the latchkay in seal form, Murel said. We could bring the otter. He’s probably lonely out there in the river all by himself without the hundred relatives.

  He might come anyway, if he sees us going. Otters are pretty curious, I think.

  They dressed in the furs and fancy bead-embroidered parkas made for them by Aisling, Auntie Sinead’s partner, who was the finest sewer in the entire village. The embroidery on both parkas had wiggly blue lines for water and fish of all colors—even purple ones and green ones—swimming around the cuffs, hem, front closure, and ruff of the hood. The matching mittens had fishes swimming in a circle around the wrists.

  Mother’s parka was blue-green with little pairs of flowers embroidered for trim. She said the pairs stood for the twins. It was a pretty parka, but that didn’t mean Ronan thought he looked like a flower.

  Most latchkays were held in the longhouse in the center of the village, and that was usually where the food was served, most of the speeches were made, and the dancing took place. Tonight everybody carried food and gifts with them to the hot springs cave. Usually there was a procession to the cave, but tonight everyone just came out of their houses and started walking.

  I wonder why they’re doing it this way? Murel said as they walked in the dark, slightly ahead of their parents. Their night vision was very good, and if it hadn’t been, the cats walked right in front of them. Besides, they’d been to the latchkay cave many times and knew the path so well they could walk it backward, which Ronan decided to try.

  The cats caught his thought and stopped to watch. He stepped back onto Nanook’s tail. ’Nook hissed and spat, something she never did around the twins, and Ronan was so startled he slipped and fell, dropping the case he’d been carrying.

  Oh boy, Mum will be mad, Murel said, and stooped to help him pick it up. The latch had been jarred open by being dropped, and she opened the lid to put back whatever was in there.

  Why did she give you this case with all your stuff to carry? Murel asked.

  Don’t know. What’s in yours?

  “Hurry, children. We still have quite a ways to go.”

  The drums began pounding, telling them that other people had already reached the cave.

  “Mum, why is Ronan carrying his clothes and schoolbooks?” Murel asked.

  Mum shook her head impatiently and pointed ahead. Murel was pretty sure that whatever the answer was, they weren’t going to like it.

  The path to the cave was well trod by the time they slipped behind the steaming falls and found seats on the ledge.

  The space behind the waterfall was not a cave exactly, because it didn’t go back very far. It was more of a room up above the hot springs, and it was the closest place to Kilcoole where people could go to talk to the planet.

  Usually when everyone was packed in it felt cozy and snug, with the smell of the smoked salmon and soup floating around the people who had feasted at the latchkay mingling with the sulfury smell of the hot springs. The warmth of everyone’s body heated the grotto so that after a while they removed their furs.

  Even in the winter when everything was iced over there was a strong sense of grasses and brambles, berries, and flowering weeds pushing up through the frigid soil, just waiting for the ice to break. Like the ghost of last summer, Murel thought, or the summers before that.

  But tonight for the first time
ever the twins felt restless and ill at ease in the grotto. The stalactites protruding from the ceiling seemed in danger of falling and stabbing someone, and the stone seat under their bottoms was very hard and very chilly.

  Something bad is going to happen, Ronan said. And it’s going to happen to us.

  I feel that way too but how could it with Mum and Da here—and Clodagh, Johnny, and Marmie, besides? They’ll probably give out to us for running off from everyone yesterday—well, swimming off, that’s all. I wonder if Da was always getting in trouble like this when he was our age?

  Young Desi Sivatkaluk was the lead drummer tonight. Desi was the same age as Aoifa, but his father, Old Desi, had been the lead drummer at the last latchkay. Old Desi and his entire team fell through the ice and drowned while out on a hunting trip only a few weeks before, so now his son played his drum. He must have been practicing a lot because he never missed a beat.

  Nanook and Coaxtl stood guard at the edge of the spring, just beyond the watery veil concealing the grotto. Someone uncovered a platter piled high with strips of salty-sweet, pink smoked salmon and started passing it around. When the plate got to Da, he got up and tossed some of the strips to the cats.

  When everyone had eaten, Clodagh stood and said, “We have a troubling thing to tell our world tonight. Who will sing the first song?”

  Auntie Sinead stood up. She had good songs and usually sang them Irish-style, to old tunes that went with lots of other words. She was the best dog driver, hunter, fisher, and trapper in Kilcoole, and her songs were full of action and adventure. This one she started by saying, “The tune is ‘Wild Colonial Boy’ and I call it”—she smiled at Ronan and Murel for the first time since their rescue—” ‘The Wild Shongili Twins.’ I’ve had only a day to find the words, and some of this I heard from others, but for those of you who did not know of my niece and nephew’s recent adventure, I made this song.”