by Fleur Smith
Sensing my growing confusion, Aiden continued, “Changelings are an unfortunate, but necessary, part of our world.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Sometimes a fledgling is born, one who, for whatever reason, is a little less magical than their parents. These fledglings do not survive for very long in the fae world. Existing across multiple planes simultaneously is too much for their bodies and minds to handle. Even enchanted food does little to provide sustenance or prolong their existence. Left in the fae court, they soon wither and pass onto the next life. Combined with the right human parents however, they can flourish into exceptional leaders who often help guide the human world into a better future.”
“Really? But—”
“You have heard of Leonardo Da Vinci haven’t you? Mozart? Beethoven?”
“They were all changelings?”
He smiled. “They are of course some of our prouder achievements, but yes they were all of fae parentage.”
There was an obvious part of the equation he’d failed to mention, and the idea horrified me. “What about the children they replace though?”
Even if the actions saved the lives of fledglings, if they were doing it in exchange for human children’s lives it wasn’t worth the cost. Not to me anyway, and I was certain Clay would see it the same way.
“We only take children who are about to draw their last breath. We glamor the fledglings to appear the same as the human children they are to replace, thus saving parents the grief of having to say good-bye. Sometimes, I think the parents know, or at least suspect, that a change has occurred, but they are willing to overlook it to keep alive the love they bear.”
I was slightly horrified by the notion that they justified fooling a parent with a replacement child, but I’d never been in the position to know what I’d feel in the same circumstances. “How do you know all of this?”
“One of the many tasks assigned to me as a protector is to find a home for changelings from our court.”
All of the late night and early morning assignments that Aiden had disappeared to perform came to my mind. My heart thumped against my ribcage as I considered how Clay would react to Aiden’s admission. In his eyes, Aiden would be the worst of all fae because of the tasks he performed. Possibly even worthy of death. I swallowed hard as the enormity of the information Aiden was giving me settled over me.
“The objective is to enforce a situation that eliminates the pain and loss of all involved.”
I couldn’t argue with his sentiment—if it was true. “So the Unseelies don’t have changelings?”
“Unfortunately, they do, and I will admit that they are a little less discerning about the children they replace—they will take healthy children too. Lee Harvey Oswald, Clyde Barrow, Adolf Hitler; they were all Unseelie changelings.”
I was about to say that his statement proved that an Unseelie court could have taken Louise, but he kept talking, and the argument died on my lips.
“The human children taken by the Unseelies rarely last more than a week—even if they were healthy before. They do not destroy them; they simply do nothing to care for them. There is no way one would have survived for years after being taken. Even the Unseelies are not cruel enough to allow a human child to suffer for that long.”
“But if Louise wasn’t replaced with a changeling, what does that mean?”
“She was never replaced by a changeling because she was never human.”
“Are you saying . . .” the words died on my lips, my question trailing off into nothingness as the reality crept up on me. If Fiona was their mother, if they were part-fae . . .
“She was a fledgling,” Aiden said, partially confirming the direction of my thoughts.
The statement raised as many questions for me as it answered.
“I think her birth was the moment when Fi’s life in the human world crumbled around her. Until then, Fi had been able to maintain a carefully constructed façade with her first child being more human than fae. However, if Louise was a vibrant fledgling like Mackenzie. Well, you should easily be able to recall the personalities of fledglings. After all, you spent enough time around them while you lived in our court. While she was living in the human world, living with her human husband, I do not believe Fi could have known the deeds he was capable of performing. If she had, she might have done things differently.”
“What are you saying?” I grunted in frustration.
“Troy,” he said the name as a curse. “Clay’s father. He stole Fi’s children away in the night so she would never see them again. Then he subjected poor little Louise to some of the worst tortures imaginable—to human or fae. All in the name of saving her.” He spat the word out in disgust. “The damage he wrought trying to remove her fae traits had to have manifested as more than just physical scars. That poor fledging.” Aiden’s eyes were downcast when he finished, every trace of anger burned out by the natural empathy of his kind.
And probably a familial empathy as well. She was his cousin after all.
Aiden’s words reminded me of some of my past conversations with Clay about his sister’s treatment at the hands of the fae. When he’d told them to me, my first instinct was that they had to have been incorrect. It was so contrary to every experience I’d had with the fae.
Unlike Clay’s changeling story though, nothing about Aiden’s version contradicted anything I’d witnessed myself. If his words were true, and I had no reason to doubt them, there was only one other group who could have inflicted the pain on Louise. Only one group who had the sort of sanctuary where Troy could hide while he performed his sick tortures.
The Rain.
I swallowed down my shock and anger at the mere notion that a father could do that to his child. My mind spun with the newfound information, pieces falling into place and painting Clay’s father in a light that I couldn’t ignore. I recalled the little Clay had told me about the retraining he’d endured at his father’s insistence. “So it really wasn’t the fae?” I asked.
Aiden shook his head. “It really wasn’t us.”
I leaned forward over my lap, mimicking Aiden’s position. I stared off into the distance as I considered the various ways Aiden’s revelation changed everything. Based on Clay’s reaction to the information already dropped on him, I wasn’t sure how he would feel about the very strong possibility that his father had been involved in his sister’s torture. Would he hunt his father? Would he deny the possibility and accuse me of lying to protect the fae? Could it destroy us and the peace we’d found in one another’s arms?
I sighed. Regardless of how he might react, one thing is clear.
“Clay needs to know this,” I said aloud. “He needs to know the truth.”
“What truth?” Clay’s broken and sleep-strained voice pierced the air behind me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I SPUN RAPIDLY to face the house. Clay stood next to the door, wrapped in the blanket from our bed. His still sleepy eyes blinked at me in shock, and his mouth twisted in horror. The snow and soft moonlight reflected off his paling face, making him appear almost as a specter. He’d been standing right behind me as I’d been talking with Aiden, but I had no idea how much of the conversation he’d heard. Once his arrival registered, I leaped up to race over to him before wrapping my arms around his waist in a comforting gesture.
“The truth about your family,” I murmured against his chest. “The real story about Louise.”
“What about her?” he asked slowly, his tone steady and careful, as he extracted himself from my hold.
“I believe this might be the pertinent time to seek out Aunt Fiona. She’ll want to know that you know this,” Aiden said before darting off into the darkness, leaving me alone to face Clay’s wrath.
Chicken! I rolled my eyes at his fast exit. Of course he would leave me alone to deal with the mess his words might cause.
“What’s happening, Evie?” Clay asked. A hint of betrayal that had been evident earlier was back a
nd coloring his voice with doubt.
His distrust made me pause; I could think of a number of occasions that should have tested his faith in me before, but each time he’d believed in me—in us. It appeared that his unflappable trust had faltered, and I couldn’t be certain if it was because he’d been so shaken by his mother’s revelation or whether he honestly believed I could lie to him about something so important. His doubt toward me hurt more than I could possibly have imagined it would and added guilt to the raft of emotions that were warring within me. Had he experienced this pain all of the times I’d allowed my trust in him to waver? Never again, I promised myself.
“What new truth did you find out now?” he prompted with a sneer when I didn’t respond. “Did you and your lover have a good laugh over this? It has to be some fucked up practical joke, right? Jokes on me, ha ha ha.”
I stood rigid in response to his hateful words and spiteful tongue. I reminded myself that he was lashing out, trying to lessen his own pain by inflicting it on others. I’d done the same thing to him as he prepared to leave me in Charlotte years before. That didn’t mean his words weren't able to penetrate into my heart and make it bleed as surely as a physical blow would though.
“I have to explain a few things first,” I said. I couldn’t leap straight into my belief that his father had inflicted many—if not all—of Louise’s wounds. I needed to come at the problem the same way Aiden had, by explaining the fae reasoning behind changelings. It could take hours to make Clay understand that, and I didn’t want him to succumb to the cold and end up getting sick. “Can we please go inside?”
“No,” his voice was firm and unwavering.
It was immediately clear that he wouldn’t back down until I’d told him everything, even if that meant standing on the porch in the freezing cold for the next few hours. Not that I would ever make him wait that long.
“Just tell me.”
I tried to find an angle that I thought he might understand. “When I was living with the fae, I spent a lot of time with the fledglings—their children. I used to go to the classrooms because it was such a vibrant atmosphere.”
Clay nodded and waved his hand impatiently. This was all part of the story I’d told him only hours earlier. Nothing new and certainly nothing that he needed to know.
“All of the fae, every single one of them, were enamored by the fledglings in the court; their safety and happiness was always the utmost priority.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Clay interrupted. His nostrils flared as his anger burst through the dam. The cold froze his breath and filled the air with little bursts of steam.
“It has everything to do with it,” I fired back, responding to his infuriating tone before I could calm down by reminding myself of everything he’d been through. “If you’ll just listen long enough to hear the story. We’d be more comfortable inside.”
“Now you’re even starting to sound like them,” he growled before taking another stride away from me, leaving me stranded and alone on the edge of the porch. “Just spit it out already!”
“Please promise me that you’ll stay calm,” I begged, closing the distance between us, but holding back far enough for him to understand I was respecting his need for space. “Please?”
“Just tell me,” he said, his voice trailing off into a growl of frustration.
“Aiden was explaining his duties, the tasks he and the other protectors have to undertake.”
“So?”
“One of those is the placement of changelings.” In the instant before the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake, but it was too late to take them back.
Once the word “changeling” had passed my lips, Clay’s mouth twisted into an angry grimace as the blanket he’d been holding dropped away, his fingers curled into tight fists before loosening, only to be curled tighter still. The tension rolled through his muscles as his body grew rigid.
“That sick son-of-a-bitch!” He tried to push by me, preparing to follow Aiden into the darkness.
“No, you don’t understand.” I placed my hand on his chest to still him. Even if I hadn’t been concerned for Aiden’s safety, I wouldn’t have wanted him to go. The shadow could still have been lurking somewhere in the dark forest, not to mention the natural dangers hidden by the snow and darkness in the rugged landscape.
“Evie, you said to me once that you hated ultimatums but that I would have to choose between you and my family. I made that choice; I chose you. I turned my back on them, on everything I knew. I did that for you. Can’t you do the same?”
“This isn’t the same thing,” I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation I’d created with my careless word choice. “I’m not taking their side; I’m trying to tell you the truth. I’m trying to tell you what you need to know. Louise isn’t a changeling!”
Clay’s dark eyes assessed me closely, as if he was trying to work out whether he even knew me at all. He scoffed. “He’s sure got you fooled, doesn’t he?”
I closed my eyes as the pain of his mistrust struck me again. Had Clay felt this way when I left him in Missouri?
“I haven’t been fooled by anyone.” The tears that threatened me were evident in my voice. “I’m speaking from my own experience.”
Opening my eyes, I raised my gaze to meet his, hoping he would see the truth in my words. I hadn’t been deceived, and I wasn’t trying to fool him. Everything I’d seen at the court, I had witnessed before the fae had known of my connection to the Rain—before there’d been a need to hide anything.
“Well, they wouldn’t show you the worst parts of their life, would they?” he huffed.
“No, of course they wouldn’t,” I agreed before shifting closer to him. I was relieved when he didn’t instantly back farther away. “But I know what I saw while I was there, and because of that, I believe what Aiden has told me.”
“Which is?”
“That Louise was never replaced. That Fiona is your mother. That Louise is—”
“No,” he cried before shaking his head fiercely. “I don’t believe it.”
“She was a fledgling,” I finished, taking care with my tone. “If it’s true then it changes everything you thought. It changes the meaning behind everything that was done to her. And who might have—”
“No!” he shouted.
I jumped at the ferocity of his voice. My heart raced and my skin warmed as I struggled to get my breathing back under control. The snow at my feet hissed and spat as it instantly melted into a puddle of water.
Clay must have realized that his anger had scared me. He forced his eyes shut, squeezing them so tightly closed that I wondered whether it was starting to hurt.
Blowing out a visible breath, he slowly opened his eyes again. The anger in them had softened, but the confusion was still clear. When he spoke, his tone was gentler. “Dad wouldn’t have lied to us; it’s not possible.”
“Are you positive about that?” I asked, reaching forward to place my hand on his chest.
“Evie, he’s my dad.” He seemed pained as he answered.
I didn’t think that pointing out that he was talking about a man who had callously murdered countless creatures, some of them possibly innocent, and who had been involved in my father’s death, would help my case, so I tried again to get him to listen to what I was certain was the truth. “If it wasn’t the fae who stole Louise, there is only one other possibility,” I pointed out.
“No, Dad couldn’t . . . He wouldn’t . . .”
“Are you sure? With everything he’s done, can you say with one hundred percent certainty that he wouldn’t have hurt a fledgling?”
“I . . . I . . .” He dropped his head and sighed heavily. “No, you know I can’t.”
“Can you please just listen to the rest of Fiona’s story?” I asked. “If not for her, then do it for me? We need to know more about what we might be getting into if we agree to help rescue Mackenzie.”
“Why do you care so much about
them?” He threw his hand toward the direction Aiden had gone. “Do you love him?”
“I don’t,” I said with absolute certainty. Despite the guilt I’d feel over not helping, I was positive I could walk away from them without a second glance. At least, I could have if it wouldn’t personally affect Clay and me if I did. “I care about you. I love you. If Fiona’s story is true, we need to know what that means for you.”
“What could it possibly mean?”
“Well, for starters it means that you might, at least in part, be fae. That has to mean something, right? You can only work out how it will affect your life once you know everything.”
“I’m nothing special, Evie.” The anger had been completely quelled, and all that was left was shame and self-loathing.
“Don’t say that,” I said, placing my head against his chest now that he was no longer trying to run from me. “Because you are. You’re special to me.”
He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. His breathing was still a little erratic, and his heart beat loudly against my cheek. “Okay, I’ll listen . . . but only for you.”
It was his way of putting his trust in me again; the relief wrapped around me like a warm embrace. “Thank you.”
After he apologized one more time for the things he’d said, we withdrew into the warmth of our little hut to wait for Aiden and Fiona to return. I was certain after Aiden told her that Clay would soon learn the truth about Louise, Fiona would try to make contact again. Only, we couldn’t be sure if they would take minutes or hours to return. There was no guarantee that my intuition was right, but neither of us could sleep regardless.
While we waited, we both got dressed in comfortable clothes, sliding our thick winter jackets over the top. Clay grabbed a small travel bag with a set of IDs and credit cards for each of us, something he had ready at all times. Now that we knew the fae were aware of our remote hideout, and with the reappearance of the shadow, we didn’t think we could risk staying any longer. Regardless of the outcome of the meeting, we would have to say good-bye to our little house and move to the next location, wherever that might be.