Changeling (14 page)

“Does it?” asked the Curator. “Fascinating.”

The Green Lady scowled. “This is the New Country, buddy, in case you hadn't noticed.”

“In the absence of any other rule,” the Pooka said firmly, “a quest starts at daybreak. It's traditional.”

The Lady glared at him. “How would you like me to make your exile permanent, trickster? Come to think of it, it might be permanent anyway, if your mortal hero doesn't come back.”

For a minute, I really thought I might explode. My face was icy, my ears buzzed, and little black sparkles danced before my eyes like gnats. “The quest's off,” I said, my voice shaky with fury. “No Mirror, no ticket, no Dragon's Scales. I won't go unless you let the Pooka go home even if I get eaten.”

As soon as it was out of my mouth, I regretted it, but the Green Lady shrugged. “Deal,” she said. “You die, the Pooka comes home.” She gave me a remarkably friendly smile. “I gotta hand it to you, kid—you're one tough cookie. And loyal. Good luck.”

And that was it. The Green Lady left, the Curator and the guards went back to work, and a few docents and curious tourists who'd gathered to watch the show drifted off again. I retreated to the inmost chamber of the Tomb of Perneb, which is just about the quietest place in the Museum, and slumped down against the wall. After a while, Bastet came in and butted my hip with her hard little head.

“That's enough of that,” she said.

I wiped my eyes and stroked her cool, smooth back. “I'm fine.”

Bastet shook off my hand and started to clean her paws. “Your copy,” she said between licks, “is fine, too. She's in the Temple of Dendur, counting the bricks.”

Changeling. I'd forgotten all about her. I put my forehead back on my knees. At least she'd be okay. Nobody was going to bother her in the Museum, and if she was one of those Folk who count things, she'd have plenty to keep her busy while I was gone. Maybe looking after her would keep the Pooka out of mischief.

“Don't even think of leaving her here,” said Bastet, looking up from her bath. “You promised to take care of her. She's your responsibility.”

You don't argue with a goddess.

I found Changeling sitting cross-legged under the temple gate with her face to the wall. She was muttering to herself.

“Hi, Changeling.”

No answer, unless “2051, 2052, 2053” is an answer.

“I'm going on a quest, Changeling. You want to come with?”

“2054, 2055, 2056,” she said. “This is not just a bad dream, is it?”

It took me a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “No, Changeling. It's not a dream.”

“I have been reviewing the data. In the past two days, I have been frightened and hurt and hungry. I have fallen from a great height and the fall did not wake me. Sherlock Holmes says that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. In a dream, I always wake up when I fall from a great height. Ergo, this is not a dream.”

“Sherlock Holmes knows what he's talking about.”

“If I am not dreaming, where am I?”

I told her a little about New York Between, stressing the importance of following the rules. I had to talk to her back because she wouldn't turn around, and I wasn't totally sure she was even listening to me. After a while, I kind of trailed off and we sat in silence until she said, “I want to go home.”

“I want to go home, too,” I said. “That's what this is quest is all about.”

Long pause. Then, “If I go on this quest with you, then can I go home?”

I started to tell her that it beat me, but I didn't. That, I suspected, would lead to a freaked-out companion who would be even harder to deal with than she was already. On the other hand, if I told Changeling that this quest was her ticket home, I'd be lying. On the
other
other hand, what choice did I have?

And there was always the chance that I might find a way to get her back Outside after all.

“Let's put it this way,” I said. “If you come with me, your chances of going home are a lot better than if you don't.”

“Very well, then,” Changeling said. “I will come with you. Perhaps I may be of some use.”

I doubted that, but I thanked her anyway. Then I went to the Sagredo bedroom, where I picked up Satchel, told the amorini exactly what I thought of them, and went back to the temple. We had some bread and cheese and Changeling fell asleep. Amazingly, so did I, right there on the sandstone floor of the Temple of Dendur.

The next thing I knew, the Pooka was shaking me, and Bastet was meowing in Changeling's ear. I grabbed Satchel, made sure Changeling was on her feet, and stumbled into the hall. It was full of docents, who hurried us along, taking turns pelting me with advice I was way too sleepy to take in. When we got to the Betweenways station, they wished Changeling and me good luck and left us alone with the Curator on the platform.

The Curator cleared his throat. “Your first task, Neef, is to acquire the Magical Magnifying Mirror of the Mermaid Queen. The closest Betweenways stop to New York Harbor is Ferry. Can you remember that? Ferry. Perhaps I should write it down for you.”

To my surprise, Changeling piped up. “I will remember,” she said. “I have an unusually good memory.”

“Good luck,” the Curator said, and disappeared. No pat on the head, no special gift to help me on my way. Not that I really expected anything, but a magic sword or even an enchanted pencil would have made me feel a lot better.

I took a deep breath and turned to Changeling, who was doing her turtle impersonation again. “Okay,” I said. “The rule for the Betweenway is that we have to stay connected. Is it okay with you if I hold on to your skirt?”

Her chin dipped deeper into her flowery collar. Taking that as a yes, I grabbed a fold of her long blue skirt and we stepped onto the Betweenway together.

 
The Betweenways were easier this time. They still weren't my idea of fun, and the noise was terrible, but at least I knew what to expect. Changeling turned mushroom-color, scrunched her eyes tight, and folded herself deeper into her jacket. I saw her mouth shaping the word “ferry” over and over again. I did it, too—
ferryferryferryferryferry
—until it stopped being a word and turned into a scurrying noise in my head.

After what seemed like a very long time, I saw a black sign with squiggly blue lines under it. FERRY, it said. I pulled Changeling through a crowd of something leathery—djinn? Giant bats?—and then we were standing on a platform with the Betweenway screeching behind us, facing a gate that opened to admit two kappa in white karate suits. I bowed to them, which is the right thing to do when you meet a kappa, and towed Changeling out of the station.

 
I know it sounds strange, but until I actually saw Battery Park, I hadn't really understood that going on a quest meant going out into the City. Maybe it was the name. Battery Park was a park, right? Trees, rocks, grass, squirrels, nature spirits? Buildings in the distance, far enough away to be mysterious? Wrong.

The buildings were right there beside the station, a jagged wall of many-windowed towers that blocked out the sun. The park was a flat open space dotted with a few pitiful trees and a low stone fortress that lay beside the Harbor like a gray stone doughnut. Gulls screamed and chuckled overhead, riding a wind that smelled like salt and seaweed.

Suddenly I felt like running. “Hey, Changeling!” I shouted. “I'll race you to the water. Ready?
Go!
”

Running felt wonderful. If I'd had the breath, I would have shouted aloud. I spread out my arms like seagull wings and tried to run faster.

Finally I got a stitch in my side and had to stop and wrap my arms around my belly.
Just like Changeling
, I thought, and hastily unwrapped myself.
I'm not at all like Changeling
, I told myself.
I don't have fairy fits. I'm not afraid of new things. I know more Folk lore than most real Folk do. I'm a hero and a champion and I'm on a quest for the Genius of Central Park.

Changeling stumped up behind me, her face stony. “You took me by surprise,” she said. “I do not like surprises.”

I was in no mood to deal with fairy nerves. “Well, you're just going to have to get used to them.”

“Why?”

“We're on a quest, that's why. There's going to be surprises, and things jumping out of bushes, and all kinds of things you don't like. If you melt down every time that happens, we're dead. And I mean that literally.”

Her mouth set in a grim line. “I am afraid. I want to go home.”

“Me, too. Remember what I told you back at the Museum? We have to finish the quest first.”

Changeling hummed. I tapped my foot. “Very well,” she said at last. “I will do my best to expect the unexpected, and I will try not to have a meltdown. It is only fair to warn you that I am not always in control of them.”

She sounded so like the Pooka promising to try and behave that my irritation vanished. “And I'll do my best to explain things when I can.” I tried to recall what Astris had taught me about New York geography. “For instance, that water over there is New York Harbor,” I said. “That round building is Castle Clinton, and that”—pointing to a huge green lady standing on an island a little way out—“has to be the Statue of Liberty.”

“I know what the Statue of Liberty is,” Changeling said scornfully. “What shall we do next?”

“I'll tell you just as soon as I figure it out.”

We walked down to the pier. The Harbor was dark and oily looking, not at all like the sparking water in the Park. It bustled with boats, from rowboats and skin canoes to tall, graceful, white-sailed ships and heavy freighters. The Statue of Liberty greeted them all in a voice that carried over the water like a bell.

I sat down with my feet dangling above the water.

The Mermaid Queen probably kept her Mirror with her all the time, right? So the first thing I had to do was find the Mermaid Queen. Who lived in the Harbor, underwater, where I couldn't breathe. So really the first thing I had to do was find some serious magical help. A magic fish seemed like a good bet, if I could catch one without a hook or a net.

I asked Satchel for some bread, which I tore into pieces and threw into the water.

While I waited for something useful to rise to my bait, I thought about mermaids. Astris had taught me the basics, of course: half woman, half fish, control New York Harbor, collect stuff out of sunken ships, have power over the waves. But all I knew of their habits was a story a nixie had told me once, about a mermaid who had pulled a sailor into the depths of the sea so she could make a table out of his bones and a goblet out of his skull.

“Mermaids,” I muttered. “I need to know more about mermaids.”

Changeling was sitting beside me, looking at the horizon. “ ‘Mermaid' means ‘maiden of the sea,' ” she said. “Mermaids have long hair and fish tails instead of legs. They like music. Ignorant people confuse them with sirens. Sirens are water sprites who sing so beautifully that sailors used to jump out of their ships to get close to them and drown.” She frowned. “I do not think sirens have fish tails, but I am not sure.”

I gaped at her. “You know about
mermaids
?”

“I am far from an expert on the subject. I saw a movie once called
The Little Mermaid
. I found it quite silly, but it made me curious about mermaids, so I looked them up online. There is a surprising number of sites. I saw many pictures that depicted mermaids combing their hair while sitting on rocks and looking in mirrors. Often they were wearing pearl necklaces.”

I should be used to being lectured by Folk. But when the lecture comes from a fairy changeling who knows nothing about the rules and looks just like me—well, it was hard to take. “That's real useful,” I sneered. “If I happened to have a pearl necklace in my pocket.”

Changeling didn't seem to notice the sneer. “Data is always useful,” she said.

That was, somehow, just too much. “Well, here's some data for you,” I said. “I know the Folk and you don't. The Mermaid Queen is the Genius of New York Harbor. From where I'm sitting, that looks like a big job. Just a guess, but I really, really doubt that she sits around a lot singing to herself and combing her hair.”

Changeling turtled into her jacket again and began her three-note hum. Part of me was sorry I'd upset her. Part of me was ready to scream.

Before I'd settled on which part to go with, somebody pushed us both into New York Harbor.

I kicked back to the surface, sputtering and spitting New York Harbor water. It tasted different from the water in Central Park Lake—oily and salty and nasty. Beside me, Changeling was a pair of splashing hands and a fast-sinking head. Back on the shore, a tanuki rolled on the pavement like a furry barrel, holding its sides and hooting with laughter.

Tricksters. You gotta hate them.

I managed to get a grip on Changeling and haul her up so her face was out of the water. She started churning her arms like an eggbeater, and we both went under. The whole world was white foam and stinging water up my nose. I held my breath as long as I could, but finally had to breathe or burst. I gasped, expecting a lungful of choking water. To my astonishment, I got air instead. It stank of stale magic, but I could breathe.

As my eyes cleared, I saw Changeling thrashing around an arm's-length away. Her mouth was square with panic, her eyes were slits, and her head was surrounded by a large, silvery bubble. Between us floated a large harbor seal so big that he had to be a selkie. He had big dark eyes with eyelashes about a foot long and a sleek round head and shoulders like a troll. There was a badge on a cord around his neck. It read HARBOR POLICE.