Izzy patted him on the back while he coughed. “Lake Umbra? What is that?” she asked.
“Demon’s…Lake…” sputtered Tom. “Fen…Whelps…”
“Lake Umbra is one of the oldest bodies of water in Faerie,” said Peter. “It lies on the border of the Norlorn Mountains. The spring that feeds it goes all the way down to the heart of the world.”
“Water’s black as blood,” croaked Tom. “Anyone falls in, they never get out. Everyone says the creatures who live there—the Fen Whelps—chew them up, bones and all.”
“Only if you make them mad,” added Selden. “If they like you, they’ll tell you the answer to any question you ask. That’s what the old stories say anyway.”
Peter nodded. “The Sisters—or Fen Whelps, as the common fairies call them—know everything that has ever happened in Faerie. If it suits their whims, they will answer one question—and only one. But even though the Sisters have been alive longer than I have, they are childish creatures. They find it humorous to play with desperate questioners. They answer in riddles or give answers with double meanings.”
Peter returned to the papers in his hand. “This is what they told Morvanna when she went to them: The key to a witch’s greatest desire lies in another’s heart. Hunt the Bretabairn, and you will find it.”
The hairs along Izzy’s spine stood on end. “So the Fen Whelps knew Morvanna’s greatest desire was to be young and powerful again. They told her exactly what she needed.”
Selden rubbed his hand across his chest. “Remind me to send them a thank-you letter.”
“Yes, the Fen Whelps did indeed point Morvanna to the missing ingredient in her elixir,” said Peter. “But I believe that is not all they were trying to tell her.”
Selden and Izzy glanced at each other, then watched Peter as he walked to the open window beside his desk.
Even though the room was a hundred feet from the ground and it wasn’t very likely someone would be hanging around outside listening in, Peter pulled and latched the window, shutting out the sounds from the party below. The room instantly felt still and stuffy.
Peter lowered his voice. “When the Fen Whelps said the key to a witch’s greatest desire lies in the heart of the Bretabairn, I think they were talking about a different witch. And a different key.”
Tom wrapped both arms around himself. “Another witch?”
Peter nodded. “Most witches eventually make their way to the Norlorn Mountains. It’s remote enough to have escaped my purge of spell books but still close enough to Avhalon to have access to the information that passes through here. They are solitary for the most part, keeping secrets from each other and coming together only to boast or compete. But over the last few years, a small group has formed to learn from a masterful witch. His name is Rine.”
“Rine.” The curious name slipped out of Izzy’s mouth before she realized she was whispering it.
“How come we’ve never heard of him before now?” asked Selden.
“Because he’s not like Morvanna,” answered Peter. “He doesn’t want fame or fortune or to rule over Avhalon or any other city in Faerie. He has been growing his power, slowly and quietly, and now he is ready to try for a much bigger prize. And if he finds what he’s looking for, no one will be able to stop him.”
“Earth,” said Izzy.
Selden and Tom both looked at her, surprised.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” said Izzy. “It’s like you told me when we were leaving Camp Kitterpines. If a witch could get back to Earth, they’d be very powerful there.”
Peter dipped his head. “You are a good listener.”
“But he can’t get to Earth,” added Izzy. “You put a ban on all the witches. If he tries to go down through those tunnels, he’ll be crushed between the worlds.”
Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes. For someone who didn’t need to sleep, he looked very tired. “There are only two ways to get around my ban. This is the first.” He tapped the jacket pocket where he kept his flute. “But Rine couldn’t use it unless I gave it to him, which he knows I would never do.”
“The second?” asked Selden.
“When Faerie and Earth first split, the fairy king, Revelrun, and his human equivalent, Master Green, worried they hadn’t made enough roads to keep the worlds connected. They created a magical object called the King’s Key. With it, you can travel down any fairy road regardless of whatever enchantment was placed on it. You can also use it to create an entirely new path or seal them all off forever.
“A few centuries and several wars later, it became clear that the King’s Key was too powerful,” continued Peter. “So the descendants of Master Green and King Revelrun hid it somewhere in the Edgewood. They hid it so well that no one has ever found it. Even I don’t know where it is.”
“Couldn’t Rine go to the Fen Whelps and just ask them where it is?” asked Selden.
Peter huffed a short laugh. “He did. And he wasted his question. I told you, the Fen Whelps like to toy with questioners. All he learned from them is that the King’s Key lies ‘resting in the dark,’ which doesn’t offer much of a clue. If he’d been a little more polite and asked his question in the right way, perhaps they would have told him. For a long time, I thought those tricky Sisters had saved us all. But now I worry that our luck has worn thin. I have tried to keep everything about Morvanna as secret as I can. But secrets spread in Faerie. I remember that Rine was a bright boy. I think he has already put the pieces together about Morvanna, the Fen Whelps, and Changeling hearts.”
“You think he’s coming for us,” said Selden.
Peter’s eyes darted to Tom. “Tell them what you’ve seen.”
Tom Diffley looked ready to throw up. Whatever he and Peter had been conspiring about together, it was clear Peter hadn’t told him it had to do with another witch. “After Morvanna was killed, the Unglers scattered,” said Tom. “We thought that without their master, the beasts were gone for good. But a few weeks ago, I started spotting them from the Muscadine, skirting the banks of the rivers around Avhalon or lurking in the Firfara Forest. And then I saw a pair of them, crossing the plain, heading into the Edgewood.”
“Edgewood?” said Selden. “But there aren’t any Changelings there. We’re all here in Avhalon.”
“Witches are banned from leaving Faerie,” said Peter. “But the Unglers can go to Earth and bring back whatever they catch.”
Izzy’s mouth had gone dry. She knew that all the roads leading to Earth from Faerie started in the Edgewood.
“I think Rine is controlling the Unglers,” said Peter. “He is training them to go to Earth and find Changelings who have already been Exchanged. The beasts wouldn’t be able to travel far without drawing notice, but if a Changeling was close by a fairy road—”
“Like at Camp Kitterpines,” said Izzy. “So I didn’t hallucinate them at camp.”
Peter gave a quick nod.
Izzy slid her hands under her knees so Selden wouldn’t see them trembling.
“So our hearts are back on a witch’s shopping list,” said Selden. “That’s nice.”
“This is nothing to joke about,” said Peter, his voice rising. “Morvanna was easily played, but I can’t protect you from Rine. He is more powerful than she was. And even more determined to get what he wants.”
Selden stood up and walked toward Peter’s desk. He pointed to all the papers and the packets with the Changelings’ names on them. “Is this how you’re going to protect us? By giving us away? I understand why you’re doing it for the little ones. They’ll be Exchanged anyway. But Lug and Dree? They are going to lose it when they find out you want to take them back to Earth. We had our chance at the Exchange, but no one wanted us. We’re not going back. I’d rather stand up to Rine than go through that again.”
Selden’s voice had risen. Izzy expected Peter to scold him, but he stayed s
ilent, his eyes moving between Selden and the floor.
“Selden, settle down,” said Tom. “You can’t fight a bunch of witches all by yourself. Peter’s thought this through. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t think it was the best thing for you.”
“Why does he get to make all the decisions?” Selden turned from Tom back to Peter. “All this time, you’ve been lying to us. You let us pick our rooms, decorate the castle, make stupid forts. You made us feel like it’s a home. And the whole time, you’ve been planning to split us up and send us off.”
“Selden…” said Izzy.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing!” shouted Selden. “The whole reason we’re in danger at all is because you messed up with Rine. You brought the wrong kid to Faerie, and you put him with the wrong family.” Selden bit his bottom lip, stopping short the rush of angry words. Then he added, “You’re an expert at that, I guess.”
“That’s enough!” snapped Peter.
Izzy got up and stood between them. “You don’t have to Exchange Selden,” she said to Peter. “Or Lug and Dree either. They can come live with me. My family will understand. I’ll make them. And no one will know. Our house is in the middle of nowhere.”
Peter turned his back to Izzy. “You aren’t staying in that house.”
“Wait. What?”
“Your family’s house sits right on a fairy road,” said Peter. “After seeing how easy it was for the Unglers to find you at that camp, I’ve decided you’ll have to move.” Peter picked up a folder they hadn’t seen yet. It had Izzy’s name on it. “Smudge and I have already started making the arrangements.”
Izzy’s brain spun, trying to process what Peter was telling her. “Move again? I can’t do that!”
Peter’s voice was thin and mechanical. “It’s already decided. Marian will arrive in Avhalon in three days, and we’ll all go to the Edgewood to start the Exchange.”
Three days.
Thirty-six hours, and then Izzy would leave Faerie forever, and her friends would be scattered around the world like dandelion seeds. She looked up at Selden. He glared at Peter, his jaw tight. Without a word, he stormed past Izzy and left the room, slamming the door behind him so hard that it made Izzy flinch.
When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see anything in the room still standing. It seemed to her that the whole world had fallen down.
12
The Solstice Celebration
The sounds of crashing metal and people shouting rattled Izzy awake. She sat up and blinked, disoriented and sweating, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. For a second, she thought she was still sitting on the couch in Peter’s study before she remembered she had come back to her own room and collapsed on her bed. She looked at the bed beside her. Dree was still gone.
The last thing Izzy remembered before she fell asleep was Selden shaking Dree awake. “I’ve got to tell you something,” he’d said. “You, me, and Lug have to talk.”
Izzy hadn’t followed. She didn’t want to see how Lug and Dree took the news. As upset as Izzy was over the thought of moving yet again, she knew her friends had it much worse. She felt awful for them and guilty that she didn’t have to share their anguish over being placed in yet another home that might not want them.
Izzy went to the window and looked down on the lantern-lit plaza below. The crash she had heard was the band, who’d either fallen or been pushed off the stage by gyrating dancers. The eastern horizon glowed purple in the dark sky. It was almost dawn. The Solstice Celebration showed no sign of slowing down. If anything, things had gotten even more rowdy, with some fairies forming a pyramid and others vaulting off their backs into the fountain. They were having the time of their lives, completely unaware of the hearts breaking in the castle right above them.
This would be the last fairy festival Izzy would ever see. She was suddenly filled with sadness and longing and anger about being forced to leave. She turned from the window and yanked on her boots, pulling a shirt on over her nightgown. Maybe Peter could make her go back to Earth, but he couldn’t stop her from watching the sun come up. She left her room and headed downstairs.
The fairy assigned to guard the back kitchen door wore a flop-eared dog mask. He leaned back on a stool, balancing it on two legs, clearly trying to impress a girl in a mask covered in spotted feathers.
Izzy didn’t pause. With a brush of her hand over her sleeve, she took on Peter’s Likeness midstride.
When the Watchman saw her, he tipped over backward off his stool. The feather-masked girl giggled. “Oh—Good Peter, sir,” stammered the guard. “I was just—”
Izzy flipped up her palm. “Don’t make excuses. Just get back to work,” she snapped in Peter’s voice.
Outside, she dropped the Likeness and headed to the plaza. Izzy expected to be swept up in the rowdy celebration, but by the time she got there, the band was packing up, and the dancers had stopped. The revelry had quieted to a rhythmic murmur. Fairies could be serious when they wanted to be, and they were serious about their traditions.
They started to gather thick and solemn around the stone fountain in the plaza. With the crowd so hushed, Izzy could hear the rush of the Liadan River that curled a hundred feet below them at the base of the city walls.
Izzy whispered apologies as she bumped into fairies on both sides. She felt self-conscious in her nightgown, with no mask on. A glittery dragon’s head leered down at her and clacked a wooden tongue in its jaws. Fairies wearing capes and long gowns moved in between them, pressing on all sides. She tried to shuffle around them, but they shoved back. Everyone wanted to have the best viewing spot for the unmasking. Three fairies with hooded cloaks pushed ahead of her.
A bird mask with glowing orange feathers passed over her, followed by a wrinkle-nosed bat, a warthog, and a hare. Another fairy had a face like a crocodile, with a jagged-toothed papier-mâché snout. These were nothing like the papier-mâché masks Izzy had made in art class. The materials looked rare and exquisite. They flexed and crinkled, showing emotion. In the dim light, they looked like real faces.
Izzy pressed toward the fountain, but it was hard to make headway. She felt so tired, like she was walking through molasses.
Constable Lufkin, recognizable by his swaggering belly even under a lion’s mask and mane that cascaded down his back, climbed onto the rim of the fountain. “Ladies and gentlefolk,” he called to the crowd. “The time has come! From now on, the days shall wane. This night marks the end of high season and the descent toward winter and darkness. But for now, together, we celebrate the light!”
He raised both arms to the east, where the sun was just beginning to rise. It should have cast its rays over the city, bathing everything in a pale rosy glow. But the darkness lingered stubbornly. The sun shone white on the horizon, but none of its light seemed to be reaching them. Some of the fairies murmured that this was odd. Many of them were too bleary-eyed to notice.
Lufkin frowned at the sun, which was robbing him of his dramatic moment. “We celebrate the light!” he repeated. When the sunlight still didn’t wash over him in glorious splendor, he said, “Oh, to heck with it. Everyone can take their masks off now.”
An excited murmur rippled through the crowd. Fabric and paper rustled as the fairies unmasked. The plaza fell quiet, and then a woman’s scream broke the silence. The crowd surged back. Izzy had to hold onto a stranger’s sleeve to keep from falling over. More screams echoed across the plaza as fairies began running.
Looking past them, Izzy saw a cluster of hooded figures wearing the same masks. It took her a moment to realize they weren’t wearing masks at all.
The long snouts stretching out from the hoods belonged to Unglers.
The plaza erupted into chaos. Cloaks and capes swirled and fell to the ground as the fairies clawed past each other to get away from the beasts.
Izzy was pushed back from the founta
in, carried by the rushing crowd to the east end of the plaza. She pressed herself against the city wall to keep from getting trampled. Fairies fell down all around her, stumbling in a strange, milky blackness that pooled at their feet.
The Unglers ignored the stampeding fairies. With heavy skulls hanging on crooked necks, the beasts’ nostrils quivered as they snorted the air.
Tom had run out of the castle and rang an iron bell that hung at the foot of the steps. “Come back!” he shouted at the panicking crowd. “Defend the castle!”
Izzy tried to run, but something was dragging her back. The shadows at her feet clung to her. They were thick and cold and stuck to her legs, pulling her down. She had to get higher, away from them. She tilted her head back and saw the top of the city wall thirty feet above her. The stones in the wall had been stacked clumsily, jutting out of the mortar at odd angles. Using the stones as handholds, Izzy started climbing.
Halfway up the wall, she looked over her shoulder. Near the castle steps, Selden crouched in his wolf form, his hackles raised high. Lug backed against him as a bear while the Unglers circled closer.
Reared up on his hind legs, Lug was taller than the Unglers. But he wasn’t a natural fighter. Izzy could hear the fear in his voice as he cried “Stay back!” and swiped his claws at them. Shadows dripped off him slowly, like globs of black honey.
Two of the Unglers charged forward. They vaulted off their spindly hands and wrapped bony gray arms around Selden’s neck. He bit and thrashed and shook them off. But he couldn’t move as quickly as usual, slowed down by the shadows at his feet. Another Ungler tackled Lug, dragging him down into the dark mist like it was trying to drown him in it.
Izzy pulled herself on top of the wall. She gripped tight to the rough stones so she wouldn’t slip off the other side. The wall was about as thick as a diving board, and it extended ahead of her, encircling the city. Izzy could hear the roar of the Liadan River, rushing past the base of the wall hundreds of feet below.
In the air, a silver bird dive-bombed the Unglers that wrestled Selden and Lug. Selden had cut a deep gash in the face of one of the beasts. He stood in front of Lug, baring his teeth at the other Unglers. Tom stood beside him, waving a short spear.
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