Once Upon a Changeling Read online

  Puck stepped around Marcos and me to address the guard. She had removed her jewelry and makeup, and she wasn’t wearing her regular punk get up. Instead, she looked stunning in a flowing blue gown that matched her hair. Her face and skin seemed to glimmer in the darkness. That’s my girlfriend, I thought, “Prisoners for the Korrigan Queen,” said Puck. “They’re the ones she’s been looking for.”

  The guard leaned closer to examine our faces and then nodded in recognition. “Ah, I see. Give them to me, then. I’ll make sure she gets them.”

  The guard moved around us, reaching down for our bound hands.

  Finn wedged himself between us and the guard, pushing into Marcos and me. We stumbled forward a few steps. “So you can take credit for their capture? I don’t think so.”

  Now that I was standing a little closer to the door, I could see inside the Hill. Instead of the tunnels that Marcos and I had wandered through, the door now opened directly onto the same room we’d found the Korrigan Queen in. It was magic, I guess. The Hill could behave differently at different times. Or maybe it behaved differently for humans than Fey. There weren’t any skeleton dogs around either. That was cool.

  As before, the room contained long wooden tables and globes of floating lights. Now, however, the tables were overflowing with food. Bunches of glistening purple grapes trailed over the edges of the tables. Huge round oranges were stacked in baskets. Cheeses of various shapes and colors toppled over each other in enormous towers. I could smell it. It was delectable and tempting. My stomach growled.

  The floating lights had been joined by strands of glittering brilliance, which were draped around the room, but hung on nothing visible. And between all this, little tiny glittering pinpoints like fireflies flitted in and around the other light sources.

  The room, which had mostly been empty before, was now teeming with Fey. Their skin was the color of ivory or in some cases a light violet or pastel green. Their eyes were large and luminous. They all wore long, flowing silken clothing that slid against their carelessly delicate limbs and features. They were so beautiful. My heart caught in my throat, gazing at them. I had the feeling that I could be happy staring at them forever, that I’d be content to watch them until I withered and died.

  “Yeah, we never get the favor of the Korrigan Queen,” Puck was saying, her voice flirtatious. “Just let us in, and I’ll give you a little favor of my own … .”

  Wait. What?

  I tore my gaze away from the faeries and looked at Puck, who was sidling up to the guard, rubbing her fingers over his chest. What was she doing? I did not like that at all. I made a step forward, but it just tugged Marcos with me, who said, “Hey,” and elbowed me.

  Puck shot me a disapproving look. I tried to communicate to her with my eyes that I was not at all cool with her getting so close to the guard, but she ignored me. Besides, what was this favor she was going to give the guard?

  Behind us, Finn nudged us forward. Marcos and I both began to walk inside. I kept my gaze on Puck and the guard. He was putting his arm around her waist. I really did not like that.

  The guard’s hand inched further down on Puck’s body, lower than her waist, searching, searching—

  —and then he grabbed her ass.

  Screw that. I struggled against the ropes that tied my hands together. We hadn’t really tied them that tight, after all. I freed myself in seconds.

  Another nice thing about the robes, despite their being comfortable, was that it was really easy to bring a cast iron skillet along without anyone noticing. I pulled mine out of my robe and dove at the guard.

  He let go of Puck, no doubt surprised to see me hurtling through the air at him, brandishing a skillet over my head. He fumbled for his sword.

  I was too quick for him. I brought the skillet down on his skull with a resounding thud.

  The guard crumbled to the ground. “Iron,” he gasped, his face turning ashen.

  I hit him again, this time bashing his face to one side with the skillet.

  He made a strangled noise in his throat, and then went lifeless.

  I surveyed him for a second. I nudged him with my foot. He didn’t move. Okay. So that was easy.

  “What the fuck, Russ?” said Puck.

  “I didn’t like him putting his hands all over you!” I protested.

  “That’s what you get when you try to date humans,” said Finn.

  “Screw you,” I said.

  “Uh, Russ?” said Marcos. He was pointing inside the door. I looked in the direction he indicated.

  All of the faeries had turned to look at us. And in the center of all of them was the Korrigan Queen. She didn’t look happy at all. But, I noted with a sense of satisfaction, her little bee train was definitely smaller than it had been the last time I saw it.

  Puck turned from me to Finn, panicked. “What do we do?”

  “So much for the element of surprise,” said Finn, digging out several of the herb bundles that he and the other faeries had made that day. He pushed past Marcos and me inside the door. At the top of his lungs, he yelled something in that weird faerie language.

  Puck took out her own herb bundles and followed Finn, screaming something unintelligible.

  Inside the Hill, from every corner, the other members of the Resistance began to advance as well, holding their bundles up like weapons.

  Marcos and I looked at each other.

  “Help me get my hands untied,” he said.

  I yanked the rope away. Marcos reached inside his robe and took out his own cast iron skillet. We nodded at each other. Then we stepped inside the doorway and into the Hill.

  It was pandemonium. Members of the Resistance were dumping their herb bundles over the heads of other Fey. Those Fey were screaming in pain. Other Fey were running. Others still cowered, their arms over their heads in protection. The rest of the Fey had pulled out weapons, silvery swords and daggers. They were attacking.

  The minute I was inside the door, a Fey with green hair lunged at me. He sliced through the air in front of me with his dagger. I barely stepped out of the way in time.

  Tightening my grip on the skillet, I swung it sideways, catching the faerie in his midsection.

  He stumbled to one side, his eyes bulging.

  I bashed him again, this time on the head. He was down for the count.

  My gaze swept the room, looking for Puck and Marcos. Marcos was beside me, hammering away at a turquoise-skinned faerie with his skillet. He was fine. But I couldn’t see Puck.

  Something slammed into the back of my neck. I grabbed at the pain with my hand, squeezing my eyes shut. With my other hand, I swung wildly with the skillet.

  It collided with a faerie who was brandishing a wooden club, catching him in the shoulder.

  He howled, clutching at the place where the iron had touched his skin.

  I kicked him, and he fell back into one of the food-laden tables. The table collapsed. Oranges rolled everywhere.

  Now that I was close to the food, I remembered how delicious it looked and smelled. Certainly, it would be okay if I took a break from fighting faeries for one second. Just enough time to have a little snack … .

  I picked up a grape that had fallen on the floor. Wow. It was so perfect, round, and juicy. I guided it to my mouth. This was going to taste so—

  “Russ!” screamed a voice.

  I looked up. Puck was across the room, mid herb dump. “Don’t eat the food,” she called.

  But it looked so good. I inched it a little closer to my mouth.

  “Don’t!” Puck said again.

  Fine. I put it down.

  At that second, a long silvery faerie blade descended on me from over my head.

  Quick as I could, I brought up the skillet. The sword clanged against iron and then started to sizzle.

  Confused, I lowered the skillet. The faerie weapon was melting against the iron, silvery liquid running down the skillet like uncooked scrambled eggs. This iron stuff was pretty freaking cool.


  The Fey who’d been holding it looked just as startled as I was at the state of his weapon. I slammed the skillet into his face.

  Dazed, he wobbled on his feet and fell over.

  I stepped over his body, trying to locate Puck again. An icy pain cut into my shoulder.

  I went down on one knee, gasping for breath. That hurt. Twisting around, I was able to see that a faerie behind me had thrust his dagger into my flesh. He was still there. He twisted the knife.

  I shrieked. It felt as if ice were radiating through my body, freezing my blood. I couldn’t move. I was frozen.

  The faerie behind me chuckled. His face twisted evilly in his mirth. Bastard.

  My teeth started to chatter, and I began to shiver. The cold was taking me over. Its icy fingers crawled down my arms and legs, over my neck, and up into my skull. I was dying, wasn’t I? I was going to freeze, stuck here, and all from one wound in my shoulder.

  I just wanted to see Puck again, one last time. I tried to find her, searching the crowd with my eyes, even as the cold crept up my face, freezing my mouth and nose.

  Puck was next to the Korrigan Queen! She was cowering on the floor and the Korrigan Queen was leaning over her. No. I couldn’t let Puck get hurt!

  With a roar of rage, I turned my body, and it felt as if every muscle inside me shattered, as though it was ice cracking. The pain was excruciating. It felt as if I lit up inside, bright, awful pain. But I managed to bring the iron skillet down on the arm of the Fey behind me.

  He screamed and let go of the dagger he was holding.

  I struggled to my feet, moving in slow motion. I jammed the skillet into his face, crushing his perfect, pretty bone structure. The Fey sobbed and whimpered. I hit him again. He was still.

  I yanked the dagger out of my shoulder and stuck the skillet against my wound. Immediately, warmth began to radiate from the cut, moving throughout my body, thawing my limbs. It took only a few seconds to heal me, and then I tore across the room towards Puck and the Korrigan Queen.

  I approached her from behind and tried to wallop her with the skillet.

  Without turning, her train of bees knocked the skillet from my hand.

  I bent to pick it up, but the Korrigan Queen was there, her hand at my throat.

  She picked me up like I weighed nothing and held me in the air by my throat. My feet dangled, just too far out of reach to kick her. I choked, struggling for air.

  Puck jumped on the queen. “Let him go!”

  The queen flicked her off as if she were a bothersome insect. “Foolish girl.”

  Puck lay motionless on the ground.

  The Korrigan Queen’s thin, red lips curled into a wicked smile. “You were lucky last time, human,” she said. “Why did you ever come back to my realm? Didn’t you realize what I would do to you?”

  I couldn’t breathe! My fingers scrabbled at her hand. It tightened around my neck, squeezing my windpipe harder.

  “Lord,” said the Korrigan Queen, “what fools these mortals be.” She laughed then, a laugh like the rush of a waterfall or the crush of an avalanche. The world was getting darker around the edges.

  I twitched. Air. I wanted air.

  Darker still.

  The Korrigan Queen was still laughing.

  I heard a thud. Or maybe I felt it. It was hard to know.

  Then I realized I was lying on the floor. The Korrigan Queen had tossed me aside as well. The iron skillet was lying next to me, just a few inches from my hand. I tried to reach for it, but I couldn’t.

  The Korrigan Queen smirked. “You aren’t still trying to beat me, are you, boy? You must realize that’s impossible. You’re nothing.”

  I stretched out my hand. Not close enough.

  Behind the Korrigan Queen, Puck was moving. She was alive! Oh, thank God. If I were going to die, then at least I knew that Puck was okay. That was all I needed.

  Puck was crawling towards the skillet. What was she—?

  She put her hands on the iron, shrieked like a banshee, and shoved it towards me, to my hand.

  Puck’s skin had gone gray. Her eyes had gone lifeless. She wasn’t moving.

  The Korrigan Queen bent over me, yelling at Puck in rage.

  I seized the skillet and pointed the handle directly at the queen.

  She bent closer.

  I shoved.

  The iron handle pierced the Korrigan Queen’s chest.

  She made a sound, something between a wail and a screech. She convulsed, her tongue sliding out of her mouth, large and purplish. Her body began to jerk spasmodically and her skin began to turn gray, and then white. And, then like ashes from a cigarette butt, it began to flake off and fly into to the air. The queen’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but then—

  She slammed to the ground, and her body shattered like a clay statue. She was dead.

  I pushed myself to my feet. Puck was standing next to me, looking completely healthy and strong. She was wearing a crown of moths and butterflies.

  “I still don’t see why Puck couldn’t come with us,” said Marcos. He was standing in my living room, rocking Sean tight against his chest. He hadn’t let go of him since we’d gotten back from the Hill. We’d left the members of the Resistance while they were using magic to switch the babies with their changeling counterparts. Likely, their parents would never even know the babies were ever gone.

  “I don’t really either,” I said. “But she’s the Korrigan Queen now, and she said she couldn’t leave the Hill.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t get that either,” said Marcos.

  “Finn said it was because she was the closest faerie to the queen when the queen died. Apparently, at the moment of death, the power hops to the next Fey.”

  “Weird.”

  I nodded. It kind of sucked too.

  “You okay?”

  I shrugged.

  “Look, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” said Marcos. “I wanted to just take Sean, but since you seem like you need distraction, you should come along. Let’s go see Cindi.”

  Cindi? Seriously? “Bad idea, dude,” I said. “Very bad idea.”

  “Oh come on, Russ. She was never nuts. What she thought was true.”

  “Have you talked to her since … ?”

  “That’s the drugs,” said Marcos. “They’ve got her all drugged up.”

  That was what Cindi had said, but still. “Even if she’s only crazy from the drugs, she’s still crazy. I don’t think seeing Sean is a great idea, especially since the last time she saw him, she tried to kill him.”

  “She didn’t try to kill Sean. She tried to hurt the changeling so that Sean would come back.”

  “We’re splitting hairs,” I said.

  “No, we’re not. There’s a big difference between Sean and the changeling.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but I didn’t feel or sound convinced. “Look, it doesn’t really matter, because I think visiting hours are over.”

  “Let’s just go see her,” said Marcos. “They’ll let us in. I’ll make sure they let us in.”

  Marcos wouldn’t let up, so I drove us to the facility where they kept Cindi. The lights were out inside most of the windows, and I really didn’t think they’d let us in, but wouldn’t you know it, the nurse that thought I was so sweet was on duty, and she let us right into Cindi’s room. Cindi wasn’t sleeping. She was sitting on the floor drawing pictures on large sheets of paper with charcoal. They wouldn’t give her pencils because they were afraid she’d use the point as a weapon, the nurse told us.

  “I think it’s great you brought the baby,” she said. “Cindi’s so sweet. I know she never meant to hurt him. Isn’t he just a little lamb?”

  The woman was getting on my nerves. “Yeah,” I said. “He’s a lamb, all right.”

  “He looks just like you,” she told me.

  “That’s funny,” I said. “Considering Marcos here is his father.”

  The nurse ma
de a confused face. I just smiled. “I’ll just leave you with Cindi,” she said, letting herself out of the room.

  Cindi had yet to look at us.

  I turned to Marcos. “I told you this was a bad idea,” I said.

  Cindi’s head snapped up. “How dare the two of you bring that thing in here?” she growled.

  “No, no,” said Marcos. “This isn’t the changeling.”

  “This is Sean,” I said.

  Cindi’s face softened, she leapt to her feet, and ran to Marcos, who was holding Sean. “How did you … ?” she said, tentatively touching Sean’s cheek.

  “It wasn’t easy,” said Marcos.

  “But we couldn’t leave him there,” I said.

  “I want … .” Cindi couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. She was starting to cry. “Can I hold him?”

  “Don’t hurt him!” I said.

  She turned her huge, hurt eyes on me.

  “She won’t,” said Marcos. He handed the baby to Cindi.

  Cindi held him close. She never took her gaze away from his face. “He’s beautiful.”

  I was tense, waiting to jump in, to grab the baby from her arms. Waiting for Cindi to act the way she usually did. Mentally unglued. She didn’t. She just rocked the baby, looked at him. “So,” she said finally. “You two together. Weird.”

  I laughed. “You and Marcos together? Weird.”

  She smiled. “You would think that. You never really knew me.”

  “You never let me,” I said.

  “I guess not,” she said. “Russ … I never meant to … .”

  “Cheat on me with half the school?” I said. “Yeah, I can, um, see how that could accidentally happen.”

  She looked at me. “You’ve got a right to be pissed.”

  “Damned right I do,” I said, but even as I said it, I knew I wasn’t really angry anymore. I didn’t care what Cindi had done. She and I weren’t for real. We never had been. And I was glad things had turned out the way they did. Still, I didn’t know if I necessarily had to let her know all that right away. “You treated me like dirt,” I said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think about other people. I just thought about … myself. I just did what I thought I needed to do. It was stupid. I used you.”