The Changelings Series, Book 1 (17 page)

Morvanna coiled the hair around her fingers until Izzy felt like her scalp would rip away. She twisted Izzy's face up. The queen looked haggard, like she hadn't slept in days. Strands of white hair framed her lined face, and dark circles cradled her eyes.

“I just sent my wyverns over the mountain to fetch you,” said Morvanna. “But here you are. It was quite the happy surprise to open the ballroom doors and find sweet Henrietta standing there.”

Hen was on the verge of tears. “I'm sorry, Izzy! I didn't hear them coming!”

Peter squeezed her shoulders and made a shushing sound.

“I see you found Lacrimo's secret hiding place,” continued Morvanna. Her voice was like a spider crawling into Izzy's ear. “Isn't he a marvel? It was Peter who found him and brought him to me. By now, the Weaver has finished adding my two most recent acquisitions to the tapestry. And this dirty ruffian is on his way to join them. It's just in time too. I'm all out of my elixir.”

On the floor at the queen's feet, the blackbird squawked and fluttered beneath the silver net. Their trick had worked. But the real Selden wouldn't be safe for long. He and the others probably weren't even halfway down the stairs yet. Morvanna might even hear them once she climbed inside the passageway.

“Izzy, I did everything I was supposed to do,” said Hen with a little sob.

“Quiet!” barked Morvanna. “Peter, take Henrietta back to my room. This mousy sister of hers is no use to me. I'll deal with her as soon as I take the boy upstairs.”

Peter started to lead Hen toward the ballroom doors. “Izzy!” she shouted. “I did everything I said I'd do.
Everything.
” She raised both eyebrows and looked down at the floor.

Izzy followed her gaze. A thin line of black dust ran between the marble columns. A small pile of blitzing powder lay at the base of each one. Hen had done her job well. If they lit the powder now, it would bring half the ceiling down. The Changelings could get away. But Izzy and Hen would be trapped inside.

Morvanna picked up the net with her free hand and started dragging Izzy by the hair toward the hidden passage. Izzy locked eyes with her sister. Hen held up one thumb and wiggled it. Instantly, Izzy remembered Morvanna's nasty, nervous habit.

She reached up and found the corner of the queen's thumb. Izzy ripped into the tender, raw skin with her fingernails. Morvanna howled. She dropped Izzy and clutched her bleeding thumb to her stomach.

Hen wriggled out of Peter's grip. Izzy dug the matchbox out of her pocket and lobbed it to her sister. Hen caught it. She dropped to her knees. With one stroke, the match was lit, and a spark fizzed down the powder trail.

Izzy ran for Hen. “Get down, get down!”

Boom!

The blast knocked Izzy off her feet and slammed her onto the floor. She curled into a ball as chunks of marble rained down around her. The floor was still reverberating when she felt someone's hands on her shoulders. They pulled her up to her knees. Izzy saw a glimpse of fine velvet and knew it must be Good Peter, but it was hard to see anything else. Something wet and sticky was running into her eyes. She put her fingers to her forehead and held them out again. They came away red with blood.

Izzy pushed Peter off her. She held one hand to her forehead and looked around, trying to get her bearings. The blast had thrown her into the center of the ballroom. Stone dust swirled in the morning light that streamed through the shattered windows. The explosion had pulverized the columns and brought a huge section of the ceiling down with them. A mountain of rubble covered the entrance to the secret passage.

A few yards away, Izzy spotted a tangle of golden curls.

“Hen!” Izzy crawled to her sister and pushed the hair off her face. Hen's eyes were shut, and she looked so pale. “Oh, no, no, no…”

Peter knelt beside Hen and placed two fingers on the side of her neck. Izzy started to push him away but then realized what he was doing.

He waited a moment, counting her pulse, then looked up at Izzy. “She'll be all right.”

“Oh, thank goodness!”

Peter gently scooped Hen up in his arms. Izzy followed him as he carried her to the corner of the room. He set her down behind one of the intact pillars.

Izzy held Hen's hands in hers. “It's going to be OK, clucky Hen,” she whispered.

Hen moaned softly but didn't wake. Izzy heard a rustling sound coming from the wall of rubble. She leaned out past the edge of the column to see.

Near the rubble pile, the blackbird cawed and struggled in its net. Beside it, a mass of silk fabric stirred, and the queen staggered to her feet. She sucked the blood off her thumb and began to pace in front of the mound of broken stone.

Morvanna stretched her fingertips to the floor. She hummed a low song, like something chanted deep in a catacomb. The swirls in the marble tiles began to glow bright blue. She increased the tempo, and the swirls flickered and rose up from the floor. They grew and grew until they became cobras with curling hoods. The blue snakes swayed obediently beneath the queen's raised arms. One by one, she sent them headfirst into the rubble. When the cobras slammed into it, they shattered the stone and themselves into thousands of pieces. Izzy ducked back behind the pillar to shield herself from the flying debris. When she looked again, her spirits sank. The secret panel was clear.

Morvanna bent over, wheezing. Using her powers had aged her. White streaks ran through her hair, and her lips were thin and drawn.

She picked up the net, glaring at the bird inside. “No more delays.” She swung open the panel.

A flash of inky fur sprang out.

Izzy gasped. “Selden!”

Morvanna dodged the black leopard just in time. Selden's paws skidded on the dusty floor as he whirled around to face her. He reared back to charge again. The queen raised another cobra from the floor and flung it at him, but he ducked, and it blasted into the wall behind him.

The queen and the leopard circled each other, eyes locked. Izzy watched them anxiously, her fists clenched tight to her chest.

Beside her, Peter patted his hands along the floor. “Where is it?” he whispered. “Please, you must help me find it!”

“Find what?” asked Izzy.

“My flute! I lost it in the blast. I must find it again!”

They heard the crash of stone and a yowl of pain. Izzy and Peter both leaned beyond the column to look. Selden had been hit. He limped backward, holding one paw off the ground.

Morvanna's hair was now completely white. Wrinkles covered her face and hands, and her throat sagged with age. But still she stood tall, like a grizzled warrior. More than ever, Izzy was convinced she had seen her before.

“I…should have known.” Selden panted as he backed away. “You're just a…tired old…witch.”

A witch?
Izzy remembered what Marian had told her:
Only humans are witches.

Of course. The queen had changed so much that Izzy hadn't noticed her ears. They were no longer pointed but perfectly, humanly round. And now Izzy realized why the queen looked so familiar. Before, Morvanna's youth and all her royal finery had prevented her from seeing it. Now the only thing missing were the farmer's clothes.

The old witch looked exactly like Marian.

The queen cackled harshly as she circled Selden. “Clever boy. Yes, that's right, I'm a witch. And I am old, but not tired, not yet. I've got more than enough power left to finish you off.”

Selden paced in front of her, growling low. “That power isn't yours. Your magic is nothing but trickery.”

“Ha! You fairies are all the same. You think you deserve your powers just because you were born with them. You bring us to your world and surround us with magic we're not allowed to have. You think we should be content to keep the balance of things—grow old and worn out doing honest,
human
work.”

Morvanna reached behind her back and pulled a metal object from her waistband. Izzy strained to see what it was, but the witch held it down at her side, concealed in the folds of her skirt.

“I did work,” she continued. “I worked myself to the bone. It took me decades of study to master my craft. By the time I did, I was an old woman. But then I learned I could change all that. I could be young again, strong again.” A smile stretched across her bony face. “Your friends have bought me plenty of time to enjoy the fruits of all my hard work. My only regret is that I listened to Peter instead of cutting their hearts out from the very beginning. But there's still plenty of time for that.” She pointed at Selden's chest. “I think I'll start with you.”

Selden reared on his haunches and sprang at Morvanna with his claws out. She spun out of the way and slashed his hip with the dagger she held at her side. With a howl, he retreated backward.

“There it is!” Peter whispered to Izzy. “My flute! There, near Selden's feet. You have to help me. Create a diversion—draw Morvanna's attention away while I go get the flute.”

“Who cares about your stupid flute?” said Izzy, choking on tears. “Can't you see that Selden's going to die? I hope your flute smashes into a million pieces. You deserve it for helping that witch!”

Peter grabbed her by the arms and spun her around to face him. “Look at me, you foolish girl! Can't you see that
helping
that witch was the only way I could protect the Changelings? I had to keep her close! I'm forbidden to harm her with my powers, but if I can get my flute, I may be able to do something to save Selden. Now you must get out there. I need your help!”

Izzy could barely make out the blur of Peter's face through her tears. “Why do you keep telling
me
to help him? I can't do anything!”

Peter peered deep into her eyes. “You really don't know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Izzy…you're a Changeling.”

The rest of the world blurred, leaving Peter's face the only thing in focus. He whispered quickly, urgently.

“Eleven years ago, a friend gave me an orphaned fairy and asked me to hide it away. When I saw the infant, I immediately knew she was a Changeling. I took her to Earth. At the first house I came to, the family had just had a baby, born in the middle of the night, too early.”

Izzy shook her head. “No…this is a lie.”

“The family was sleeping,” Peter continued. “They didn't realize their baby hadn't survived the night. I looked down at the Changeling in my arms. You looked so much like the other child. So I used my flute to round your ears, and then I switched you. I meant to come back for you later, but when I returned, you were gone. I left and forgot about you and about that house. When I stole Hen from the woods in Everton, I never dreamed she was your sister. If I had known, I never would have taken her. But what's done is done, and now you're here, and I need your help!”

Out on the ballroom floor, Izzy could hear Morvanna flinging more stone and Selden crying out wearily. Her shoulders heaved with sobs. “You're lying! This isn't true!”

“It is true! And you know it; I can see it in your eyes.” Peter gave her a shake like he was trying to wake her from a nightmare. “Surely at some point in your life, you've realized your Changeling powers. Has there never been a time when you were all alone, when you Changed into something else? Think carefully!”

Izzy looked into Peter's black eyes. Her chest tightened, like all the air in the room was gone, but she couldn't make herself look away. And there, in those black, bottomless pools, she saw the image of a little red fox stalking up on her unsuspecting sister in a game of hide-and-seek. She saw it for only a moment, a fraction of a second, but that was enough.

Izzy's breath came back in one great gush as the realization hit her. The fox in the woods. The mouse in the sack of chestnuts. Even the blackbird in the courtyard only moments ago. She had told herself she was just pretending, that they were just her imagination. But now she knew the truth.

They were all her.

Peter released his grip on her arms. “There. I knew you'd come to your senses. Now will you
please
do something?”

Izzy had stopped crying, but her whole body still shook. “But—what do I do?”

“Something, anything!” whispered Peter, glancing worriedly around the edge of the pillar. “Whatever you have the ability to Change into. It doesn't have to be impressive, just confront Morvanna long enough for me to get my flute. Now that her powers are depleted, I may be able to subdue her.”

Izzy just stared at him. Did he realize what he was asking her to do? “I can't Change. I don't know how!”

Peter hauled her up by the arm onto her feet. “If you've done it before, you can do it now. Hurry!”

He pushed Izzy to the wall on the east side of the room. Morning sunlight poured in through the broken windows, creating wide bands of light and darkness across the floor. Trembling head to foot, she hugged the wall. She circled closer to Selden and Morvanna, ducking beneath each window she passed so she could stay in the shadows.

Izzy slipped off her boots and tiptoed carefully over the shattered glass and marble. Peter told her to cause a distraction, but what should she Change into? She knew she could be a fox, a mouse, and a blackbird. Was there anything else? Something that could fight the old witch?

In the center of the room, Morvanna stood with her back to Izzy, her hair a tangled nest of white. She jabbed her dagger at Selden. He lunged aside, but Morvanna feinted and switched hands. She sunk the blade deep into his shoulder. He screamed and thrashed away from her. As he kicked across the floor, he Changed back into his boy form.

Izzy left the shadows and crept toward Morvanna. The wound on her head throbbed, and her heart thundered in her chest. She gave up on Changing into anything ferocious. At this point, she just needed to Change into
something
. A fox. She had done it before—surely she could do it again.

A fox, just a simple, little fox
, thought Izzy. A few yards from the witch, she remembered Lug's words:
It comes naturally. Just like breathing.

Morvanna stepped toward Selden with the tip of her blade pointed right at his heart.

Izzy took a breath and shouted, “
Stop!
”

The witch spun around. When she saw Izzy, a black-toothed smile spread across her face. She started to cackle. Izzy looked down at herself in dismay. She was no different. She hadn't managed to Change into anything at all.

“The sullen girl just can't seem to stay away!” said Morvanna. “Don't worry, dear. I haven't forgotten about you.”

Izzy trembled, looking up at the witch. Even old and withered, Morvanna towered over her.

The queen adjusted her grip on the dagger. “Maybe you've come to beg me for mercy. But why should I give it to you? Life has certainly never given it to me.”

Izzy glanced at Selden, curled in pain on the floor. Beneath him, the growing pool of blood reflected his body like a dark mirror.

A mirror.

Izzy filled her lungs with air and let go.

The witch raised her dagger high above her head. “I think it's time you learned just how unmerciful this world can be.” Morvanna looked up at the barbed point. She started to drive it straight down at Izzy.

The witch gasped. Her blade clattered to the floor.

She stood facing not a mousy little girl but a perfect, youthful version of her own self. The old queen gaped at her double. She touched her own sunken cheek, and the girl facing her did the same, but her skin was as smooth and white as cream.

Izzy stood straight-backed and tall, just like the queen she had first seen at the Apple Festival. With all her focus, she imagined she
was
that fairy queen, imperious and proud. She took another breath, relishing the strength rippling through her muscles. The real Morvanna straggled forward, her open mouth exposing rotten teeth.

“Yes, this is what I was meant to be; this is what I worked so hard for,” Morvanna whispered, mesmerized with her young Likeness.

Izzy took a step back, holding the witch's gaze.

All the ferocity had drained out of Morvanna, replaced with a bone-weariness. She looked down at her wrinkled hand, then back up at her reflection's young face. “I lost so much time, so many years… They slipped through my fingers like smoke…”

The sadness in Morvanna's voice broke Izzy's concentration. Beneath the young queen's cold disdain, she felt her own emotions welling up. She tried to tamp them back down, but she couldn't help it. She felt sorry for the old witch.

The Likeness wavered. Izzy could feel it like a slight shiver running down her back. Pity was not something the young Morvanna would have felt, not even for her future self. She squared her shoulders and stilled her breath, trying to focus. Izzy knew she had to hold on to her form just a little while longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Good Peter creeping across the ballroom toward Selden, where the silver flute lay on the floor near his feet.

Izzy stepped slowly backward, luring Morvanna along with her, away from Selden and Peter. She backed up until her satin shoes crunched over broken glass and the backs of her knees touched the window ledge behind her. The sunlight streaming in through the open window fell harshly on Morvanna's face. The old witch leaned so close that Izzy could smell the stench of decay on her breath.

Peter reached for the flute, but it slipped from his fingers and pinged onto the floor.

The sound snapped the witch out of her daydream. She looked Izzy up and down, her eyes burning with wild hatred.

“
How dare you!
”

Morvanna raised her hands and lunged at her Likeness's ivory neck. In an instant, Izzy let the form slip off her like a silk robe. Plain brown hair replaced the fiery red, and all her regal splendor vanished. The cut on her forehead ached as she shrunk down to her normal self. But she was small again, and small was just what she needed to be.

Quick as a fox, she ducked down below the window ledge. Above her, the witch clawed at her vanishing reflection. Terror spread over Morvanna's face as she realized her mistake. She pinwheeled her arms to stop herself from plummeting out the open window, but it was too late. As she tumbled over the ledge, she twisted like a cat. At the last minute, she grasped Izzy's collar, yanking her headfirst out the window behind her.

Izzy felt a rush of air as she started to fall. Then rough hands grabbed her ankles, and her body jerked to a stop. The collar of her jacket ripped away in the witch's fingers.

Morvanna continued falling, down, down, past the high, sheer walls of her castle.

Izzy swayed by her feet, all the blood rushing to her head. The sky and the ground seemed to switch places. She shut her eyes.

Above her, she heard a dog barking. A gruff voice said, “Hold on, child, I've got you!”

Izzy opened her eyes and looked down. The witch's body lay on the stones far below, twisted all wrong.

Izzy shut her eyes and didn't dare open them again.