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“Hello, squirrel,” Ruby called out to a red squirrel. It bolted up into an oak tree.
“Bye, bye, squirrel,” she said, disappointed that the creature hadn’t answered.
“Never mind.” Aiden took Ruby’s hand in his, careful not to hold too tight. “Come on, little one. We’re falling behind your mum and little sister. Now we’ve crossed the border, it’s well past time we were home.”
“Hungry,” Ruby grumped.
“We’re all hungry,” Keera called back. Pearl was snuggled up against her chest in the baby pouch, noisily sucking her fingers and drooling down her white dress. “The picnic tables are just ahead.”
“Ooh, look!” Ruby cried—finger pointing to a circle of red-capped fly agaric mushrooms. “Fae.”
Aiden glanced back. “Yes, they’re fairy mushrooms. Don’t touch, you’ll scare the fairies.”
Ruby nodded; eyes wide.
“The fae will be fine.” Keera pushed Pearl’s beanie up. “But you won’t be if you touch poison mushrooms. Stay away.”
“Keera, come on. It’s just for fun. When I was little, Mum and I would look for fairies everywhere we went.” He smiled that infectious smile of his. “Look! Someone’s even made little fairy houses along the walk.”
“They’re not real fairy houses, Aiden.”
“Didn’t you ever think fairies were the cute creatures in books?”
Keera bit back a grin. “No. I don’t think so. When I was little, I thought fairy stories were horror stories. This whole cutesy fairies thing is weird.”
Ruby laughed, pointing at the snails and their silvery trails, before discovering a ‘village’ of tiny pretend houses that had been artistically scattered among the trees and shrubs along the side of the path. “Fae, fae. See Mama?”
§
Lettie hugged Nada tight and looked out from behind the fly agaric mushrooms toward the family. The adults seemed ordinary enough humans, but the eldest girl, Ruby, was pointing right at her and Zadie with an enormous chubby finger.
“I didn’t know humans could see us here, like this,” Zadie muttered.
“It’s unusual even for children,” Lettie replied. Because that’s what the old gardener had told her. He’d had a soft spot for this Earth place. She couldn’t see why—the trees were sickly, and it smelled weird.
Still, the little girl was charming with her red-autumn leaf hair and gold-brown skin.
“Are you sure these are the ones?” Lettie asked Zadie.
Carelessly holding faer changeling by the heel, Zadie shrugged faer green speckled shoulders. “It’s them. You know it is. We’ve been chasing their trail through Brocéliande to this forsaken place. I can still smell the sword the woman made, the cold iron, the tears...”
§
“Yes, they’re very pretty,” Aiden said. “Ruby, come and see.”
Like Ruby wasn’t tired and hungry enough already. “Shall we make it to the picnic table? Have some lunch?” Keera said.
“Soon, Mama.” Ruby crouched down to better see the little painted clay toadstools clustered near the base of a tree that had tiny fake windows and a green and gold door placed artfully on the outside, as if it were part of the tree trunk.
It wasn’t the only one. It would have taken time and care and a certain sense of humour to place the miniature village of fake fairy houses along this quiet forest walk as an attraction for the families walking through. Small and cute. This is how ordinary people thought of fae. Diminishing them by adding wings and pretty dresses. Aside from the penchant for gorgeous clothing, they couldn’t be more wrong. Fae, at least the fae people could see, were as big as humans, as dangerous as demons, and fickle as the wind. Wiry, quick-witted warriors with no mercy for anyone who stepped into their territory or got too close.
“Come on. Lunch time.” Keera hitched the straps of the baby pouch.
“Big fae,” Ruby said. “Not fit in houses.”
Keera’s heart dropped until she saw Ruby was trying to open one of the tiny fake doors.
“No.” Keera took Ruby’s hand. “We have to be careful. We don’t want to break the special houses.”
“But look,” Ruby said, pointing to a butterfly flitting through the trees. “Fae. Look!”
“Not here.” Keera let out a nervous burst of laughter. “Still, keep an eye out and warn us if you see any silver-clad warriors.”
Pearl was slurping her fist with gusto. If she didn’t get fed soon, she’d burst into tears.
“Come on, your sister’s hungry, Ruby. Aren’t you hungry, too?”
§
“Come on. We have a job to do.” Zadie scraped a handful of puddle-slime and raced ahead to the picnic table.
“I don’t like this,” Lettie shook her head. Nada squirmed in her arms.
“Who are we to argue?” Zadie replied. “The crime was committed. The King and Queen have made their ruling, and the price must be paid.”
“And the Myrddin treaties?” Not that Lettie cared a jot for the treaties—only that it outlawed exchanging changelings for human children.
“Void, I guess.” Zadie shrugged. “But there’s nothing we can do. We follow the queen’s plan, or we die.”
Lettie’s heart felt like it was being stomped on. But the queen did not know what she asked. Persephone had never spent hours making faces, or waving her hands at the wind, listening, hoping, begging for a changeling to Become. “I’d condemn Persephone to the Underworld if Hades hadn’t done that to her for half the year already. And it’s going to be so hard on Nada and...your wee one.”
“Eh, we lived through this. Our changelings can, too.
“Not me,” Lettie said. “I was never sent to be raised by humans.”
Zadie gritted her teeth. “You were one of the lucky ones, then.”
§
Aiden’s stomach rumbled.
“Pretty.” Ruby pointed past the picnic table under the great willow tree and toward the burbling brook meandering beyond it.
Aiden felt a weird pressure from there, as if someone or something was watching.
“Look, the fae’s got a baby.” Was there a glow in the air where Ruby was pointing? Can’t be. Fae don’t come to Earth, there’s not enough magic. Except now he felt like second-guessing everything he knew. Everything he’d learnt.
“The children love the forest, here,” Keera said. “But all this talk of fae is making me feel nervous. Like we’re back in Brocéliande.”
“I know what you mean.” Aiden shivered. Talking about fairies didn’t feel quite like a game anymore. “Maybe we should picnic closer to home.”
“Picnic, Mama? I’m hungry now.”
“So am I, sweet pea. So’s your sister. She’s going to swallow that hand if we’re not careful.” Keera sighed and rescued Pearl from the baby sling. “And this is a lovely spot.” The willow’s drooping leaves offering just the right amount of shade. Keera eased the front pack off her shoulders and sat down at the picnic table. Then, fast as lightning, jumped up, clutching Pearl. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Aiden asked, accidentally touching the slimy table. “Ew.” He wiped his hand against the nearest tree. “Can you watch Ruby for a moment?” He raced down the grassy bank to the stream. In a nervous hurry, he half-slid down to the rocky edge. He glanced back, but could see nothing.
They’re fine, he thought, rinsing his hands in the stream. Keera can more than look after herself. There’s no reason to feel so nervous.
§
The pale red-headed man approached the slimy table.
Zadie laughed as he jumped away, wiping his hand repeatedly on a nearby tree before rushing off to the stream. “See how silly they are? Fussing over a little slime. Quick! Tear a fragment of the child’s dress while they’re distracted.”
Lettie didn’t think it was so funny. She rushed to Ruby and snipped a fragment from the older sister’s dress while Zadie sneaked up to cut a thread from the baby’s bib. Not that the Sword Master was going to notice. She was too busy watching the man nearly fall into the stream.
“There. Happy?” Lettie muttered, waving a fragment of Ruby’s red dress.
Holding a piece of white fabric with her fingers, Zadie shuddered. “Humans are so gross. The babe had spit all down it.”
Lettie stifled a giggle. “I thought you were the one who didn’t mind a little slime?”
“Slime’s different.” Zadie huffed. “Come on. Arachne is waiting for us.”
§
The instant they’d passed into Brocéliande, the change from flutterform to elegant form hit Lettie like a brick.
Arachne scuttled toward them, clicking angrily. “How long must I wait for you? Here, take these.” She thrust a blue butterfly wing pendant into each of their hands. Two tiny threads, white and red, from each of the girl’s dresses were knotted around each chain. “Put the Queen’s Talismans on now. They’ll keep you in elegant form, even on Earth—and keep you and anything you’re holding, shielded from the humans. Well, all the humans except the girls themselves...that’s what the cotton’s for. You, and even the children, will be able to walk past other humans screaming—and they won’t notice a thing.”
“Queen Persephone’s so clever,” Lettie murmured. “she’s thought of everything.
“Yes, yes,” Zadie snapped, while Arachne rolled her eyes.
Reverently, Lettie pulled the iridescent necklace over her head and smoothed it against her skin. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t.
Muttering, Arachne sewed replicas of the children’s dresses, her eight legs clicking in her haste. “I hate it here on the border,” the old spider grumped. “That dead world is no place for someone like me, and here is little better. By the Underworld, I thought the queen had finished with these games of hers.”
“Our Queen commands, and we must.” Lettie piped up.
“Don’t listen to me. I’m just an old spinner who wants to get back to Faerland where I belong.”
“I won’t breathe a word.” Zadie turned to give Lettie a sly wink. Fae was such a gossip. There was no way fae would be able to resist telling everyone up and down FaerLand of Arachne’s lack of respect for the queen’s orders.
“Almost there,” Arachne said, picking up Nada and pushing faer into the dress.
Nada wriggled and rustled by way of laughter.
“Is Arachne tickling you?” Lettie asked, listening so hard for an answer she imagined Nada had replied with the softest, yes. But of course, neither changeling said a word. It was nothing more than the wind. She was silly to hope, especially now that her Nada was about to become Changeling Ruby.
“Arachne’s work is amazing,” Zadie said. “Do you think if I ask nicely, she’d make me a gown for the queen’s ball?”
“I can hear you perfectly well,” Arachne said. “And no. Bad enough being at the queen’s beck and call. Ask someone else to make your dress, or make it yourself.”
And with that, Arachne was done. Lettie swallowed. The changelings were not only dressed in replicas of Ruby and Pearl’s clothes, but they appeared exactly like the human children. Changeling Pearl’s chubby baby limbs kicked, just like a human child’s. Changeling Ruby put faer hands on faer hips. Only now, Nada could no longer become a butterfly and hover over Lettie, or turn into roses or reptiles. She was stuck as Changeling Ruby.
“And remember, the talisman’s protective charm only covers you and anything you’re holding, so once you’ve made the exchange, hold the children tight.”
Zadie grasped Changeling Pearl under faer arm like a bundle of wood. “Weird human thing.”
Lettie didn’t think Pearl Changeling was so weird. Faer hair was beautiful, black as ebony, shiny as silk. Faer chubby cheeks held a delightful scowl. Fae kicked out her baby limbs, opened faer mouth...
...and shattered into an assortment of precious stones, argentite, and other oddments.
Zadie burst into tears. “My darling. My precious. I never thought I wanted a changeling. Why break now? Why?” She pushed silver tears aside with the back of her hand.
Lettie didn’t know what to say. Zadie had never wept before. Or at least Lettie had never seen it. But much as her heart was breaking for her friend, it hurt to see her own changeling immutable and unchanging.
Nada had lost something precious—but at least Lettie’s precious changeling was still with her. If not for much longer.
She had to harden her heart.
Only it felt like breaking as Nada...no, Changeling Ruby, blinked. Her green eyes accusing.
“Maybe we could run away? We could keep my changeling, reverse this enchantment and find somewhere the king and queen will never find us.”
“Where would that be?” Zadie said between sobs. “No, we have to work with what we have. And it’ll be easier now with just the one.”
Lettie clutched Nada tight while Zadie wiped away faer tears.
Faer chin set, and eyes narrowed, Zadie pulled a red jewel out of faer pocket. “I have the perfect lure.”
§
“How about we have another little rest here and finish our picnic?” Aiden pointed to some exposed tree roots, the perfect size for a bench. He pulled his backpack down with a sigh of relief and rolled his shoulders. Even if they did really need some family time together, walking back from Brocéliande with the children and all Keera’s sword-smithing equipment hadn’t been the best idea.
“Picnic!” Ruby giggled and pulled a face for baby Pearl. Pearl giggled back, kicking her chubby legs, and drinking in the forest as if it were sunshine.
“Uh. Uh!” Pearl flung out her arms.
Keera pulled her out of the sling and sat her down on the mossy carpet.
Pearl clambered over the roots and pulled at Aiden’s pant legs as if she was trying to stand.
“Not yet, you don’t, rabbit.”
While he picked up Pearl, Ruby toddled over to a mossy bump under an elm tree. “Get away from there!” Keera called, a note of panic in her voice. Elms were treacherous.
Aiden’s eyes met hers and she relaxed. This is Earth. Not Brocéliande. Keera needn’t always be on guard.
Raising her chubby hands up onto the rough bark, Ruby called out, “Look a soft.”
“No,” Aiden said. “Bark’s rough.”
“Ruff, ruff,” Ruby said. “I like doggies.”
Aiden laughed, only to be confronted by the cutest chubby-cheeked scowl from Ruby. He glanced away to smother his mirth and unpacked the boiled eggs.
It was good to stretch his legs out in the shade. Keera leaned in and pushed a strand of hair back. She kissed his nose. “It’ll be good to get back home.”
Aiden couldn’t agree more.
“Alright, I think it’s past time for lunch,” Keera said. “Come and wipe your hands. Ruby? Where’s Ruby?”
“Ruby!” Aiden called. Guilty he’d lost sight of their daughter, his heart thudded, a single beat of concern before he saw Ruby’s hand reaching out for something within the elm’s branches. A flash of something red and sparkly. Aiden frowned. Maybe it’s a trick of the light—or maybe it isn’t. “Ruby, what are you doing?”
Ruby returned; her chubby little hand clenched in a fist.
Keera reached out a hand. “What have you got there?”
“Nothing.”
“Open it,” Keera insisted.
Reluctantly, Ruby opened her fingers one by one, but there was nothing inside.
“Let’s eat up,” Keera said in her no-nonsense voice. “I’ll feel much better when we’re home.”
§
Zadie turned on Lettie. “Alette, you missed. That was on purpose.”
Lettie shook her head—but it was true. She had no intention of letting Nada go.
“Fine,” Zadie growled, grabbing hold of Changeling Ruby’s hand and pulling her away from Lettie.
“No!” Lettie cried. “Give faer back.”
“Don’t make me hurt it!” Zadie warned, clutching Changeling Ruby tight.
Lettie whimpered. Should I free faer? Will fae break? She tugged a little, but Zadie only held Nada...Changeling Ruby tighter.
“Let faer go. Queen Persephone doesn’t need to do this. We don’t need to do this,” Lettie begged, but Zadie ignored her. Slowly, fae stepped toward the family, thrusting Changeling Ruby in front of faer.
The child, Ruby, waved and walked nearer, an egg clutched in one hand. She waved with the other. “Hello.”
The changeling waved back.
Pearl burst into tears. The parents glanced over, offering the bawling baby food. Seeing faer chance, Zadie rushed in.
Lettie lurched forward...too slow to stop Zadie as fae pushed Changeling Ruby away and snatched up the human child. In the rush, Ruby’s half-eaten egg dropped to the ground.
“No,” Lettie cried. The changeling she’d cared for, for so long, walked toward the strange people like they were faer parents. Like they’d looked after faer for a hundred years.
“You knew it was always going to come to this,” Zadie said, thrusting the human bundle into her arms. “Queen Persephone doesn’t tolerate failure.”
“And what about you?” Lettie asked, holding the squirming child, Ruby, tight to her chest. “Your changeling failed.”
Zadie let out a strangled cry and wrapped faer arms around faerself.
How could I have been so cruel? “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Zadie snapped. “And it was a good point. So, what am I going to do? I’m going to wait a hundred years or so for the queen to calm down.” Zadie ran, leaving Lettie alone with the human child.
“Mama,” Ruby said, watching her parents pack up their picnic and continue on their way, none the wiser that their talkative child was now apparensilent—and oblivious of their real child only footsteps away.
What have I done? Lettie felt as if iron was running through her veins, even as she did her duty and held the child. The pain of losing Nada made worse by this human horror that stank of stale egg and talcum powder. “This way,” Lettie insisted, pulling the little girl away.
“Ruby’s hungry,” Ruby said.
“Is she?” Lettie replied, flashing her sharp teeth. “What if Lettie is hungry?”
Ruby didn’t seem to notice the threat. “Ruby wants to go home,” she said. “Take me home.”
Lettie sighed. “Well, come along. The faster we move, the faster you will see your new home. It has been a long time since we had a child at Queen Persephone’s Court. Tell me, do children eat spider-silk or ambrosia?”
“Food,” Ruby licked her lips. “Chocolate. And pancakes.” In her hand, she still held Zadie’s red jewel.
Lettie tried to take it.
“Mine!” Ruby shrieked. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
Lettie clamped a hand over her closest ear. I am cursed to have lost my beautiful changeling for this ghastly creature. The last thing Lettie wanted was to leave Nada behind and take a human child through the border into the Fae Kingdom, but an upset, crying child was worse. After her sacrifice, she was going to have to stick this one out and hope one child was enough to curb Persephone and Hade’s wrath.
The little girl screamed in a voice even more piercing than most humans, “I’m hungry and I want my mama.”
“Human child. You will be the death of me.” Lettie threw Ruby over her shoulders and trudged onward, determined to offload this annoying creature as quickly as possible.
“Hungry! Hungry!” Ruby cried tears of water down Lettie’s dress.
Lettie sighed and pulled out her personal stash of food. “Hi, Ruby. Maybe we should start again. I’m Lettie. Would you like some nuts and berries?” It wasn’t ambrosia or anything fancy, but it would have to do.
Nut by nut, and berry by berry, she passed her entire month’s supply of food up to the child, whose struggles slowly eased. At last, battered and bruised, Lettie felt safe enough to put the child down. “Move, Ruby. You are most annoying. I do not like you.”
Ruby looked up and smiled. “I like you. And I like my pretty present.” She turned the red stone over in her hands so it flashed with light. “Are we going home now to see Mummy and Daddy?”
Lettie wiped a silver tear from her eye. It was all she could do not to break down on the spot and cry herself to death.
“Don’t cry.” Ruby wrapped her chubby arms around Lettie’s legs. “Do you want the jewel? Here.”
Lettie shook her head and pulled herself together—for Nada’s sake. Why is the human child being so likeable? It’s only making this worse.
She closed her eyes and imagined it was Nada hugging her tight.
§
“So, what do you think, Ruby?” Aiden asked when they’d finished eating. “Are you ready to go yet? Are you sure you don’t want something else to eat?” After all her complaining, Aiden hadn’t seen her touch a thing since she’d run off with the boiled egg.
Ruby shook her head.
“Was that a nice picnic?... Ruby?”
Ruby shook her head again and lay down on the mossy forest floor.
“Of course you’re tired. It’s been a big day.” Aiden picked up his little girl. She didn’t cuddle in, but lay stiff in his arms.
Keera flashed him a worried glance. “Maybe we should’ve asked Corson to help.”
“Maybe,” Aiden replied, his gut churning. He shook his head and tried to get the idea of fae snatching Ruby out of his head. So, Ruby isn’t talking. It’s been a long day. She’ll be right as rain in the morning...
