With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (5 page)

“Then with that curse, you’ll suffer too,”
our protector lashed back. “Your magic on this sphere you’ll n’er renew. Be gone with you!”

A shrill scream followed the curse. “
You cannot stop those I send! In three days’ time, I’ll have my revenge!”

The voice faded and our protector cried out with her. The noise spiraled into silence. Strangely enough, I sensed that the beautiful faery was gone, along with whatever evil that was after us, both of them banished from this place by a few weird and rhyming words.

The baby and I were alone in the shadows. I buried my face into the kid’s soft blanket, not sure what to do. The faery’s kiss and touch were more than enough to convince me that this was real, but how could I help this child if I didn’t know what was happening? My body ached and a deep weariness pressed down on me. The baby’s small fingers tangled through my hair. I lifted my head, meeting her big eyes. She watched me with too much trust. No one had ever depended on me like that.

“I can’t help you,” I whispered. “I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay. I do.”

I glanced up, seeing the blond guy again. His grin was mischievous, but there was something else in it too. Confusion? Recklessness, anger, a little guilt? That didn’t make me feel any better. He offered me his hand. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but I had no choice—I took it, feeling the same warmth flow through me at his touch, though not as potent as the first time, it still wasn’t comfortable.

“They’ve lost their strength since the baby’s been gone from the Sidhe,” he said.

“Who?”

He jerked me to my feet in a far-too-familiar manner. “The faery king and queen. You refer to them as Titania and Oberon in your little play. Good job, by the way. You looked really . . .
affectionate
on stage.”

I scowled at the sarcasm, not wanting to be reminded about ruining the play right now. Things were only going to get worse. “They called each other Onagh and Finn,” I said.

He put a finger to his lips to shush me. “Look, those are just a few of their names. Euphemisms really. Mom and Dad to you.” I jolted in surprise when I thought he was referring to me, then saw him smile at the baby. “Isn’t that right?” She gave him a gummy smile in return and he sucked in his breath. His eyes darted about as if expecting something bad to happen, then he let out a shaky laugh. “If you had those faeries’ full names, you could bring them all here just by saying them. Names at our place work like a code. Of course, your pronunciation and each syllable have to be correct.” His eyes returned to mine. “Not now, though. You heard those two fighting—they’re banished from this sphere until we get you back.”

“Back where?”

He didn’t answer. A light flared over us and I finally had enough wits to run. I didn’t get too far before he grabbed my shoulders and stopped me from plunging headlong into the dark maze of catwalks. “Not that way! You’ll run straight into whoever that hag
sent after us.” He dragged me down the stairs after him, looking over his shoulder at me and the baby. There was something penetrating about his eyes that made it hard to look away, like he knew more about me than he should. Mercifully, his eyes left me to study the mysterious thing on my head. “Never get involved in a crown war with faeries,” he said.

“This isn’t a crown.” I tugged at it with a free hand, but it wouldn’t come off. I heard a sucking noise and immediately stopped, not wanting to rip my hair out with it.

“Wow, you don’t know anything, do you?” he asked. “There’s a war going on. Bring the changeling and she will lead the people.” I must’ve looked confused because he took a deep breath before explaining. “Yeah, I thought it was wishful thinking too—before now, before you. By the looks of things, we finally have a fighting chance. That’s good news, right?”

“A fighting chance against what?” I asked.

“Against
who
,” he corrected. “We’ll call her
the hag for now. You know the drill. Just saying her name will invoke her, blah, blah, and that means,” he said way too condescendingly as we hurried down the rickety stairs, “if you so much as breathe her true name, it will alert her to where we are and then she’ll find us. Even if your protector banished her from this place, she’ll send others after us. That’s how faeries work. Get it? Got it? Great.” We landed safely on the ground floor. The play was still going on. Everything seemed normal, but I had a feeling nothing would ever be the same again.

“All shall be well,” Puck said onstage.

No, it
wouldn’t—
especially when I heard the tail end of the blond guy’s words: “If she finds us, she’ll kill us all. Of course, she’ll reserve something special for me . . . after she hears what I’ve done.”

His chuckle echoed in the darkness.

Chapter Three

Sleep on, sleep on, some fairy dream
Perchance is woven in thy sleep —
But, O, thy spirit, calm, serene,
Must wake to weep.

—Edgar Allen Poe,
To—

“W
here were you?” Someone grabbed my shoulders from behind, pulling me away from my new ally, or tormentor, or whoever he was. It was Daphne, my younger sister. I blinked at her, trying to see her better through my exhaustion. The faery queen had done a number on me. My vision was all blurry. “I’m so glad I found you,” she said. “You almost missed your cue.”

She looked down at the baby and laughed. “Looks like you found who was making all that noise.” She tickled the serious baby under the chin, not really getting a reaction from either one of us. The baby’s eyes were on mine like she knew me. Definitely not a newborn, I decided she was about six months, though I was probably way off.

“You naughty little thing driving my sister crazy.” Daphne spun away from us, a cute tilt to her head. “Well, now that you’ve found your changeling, get out there, Halley!” I looked around for the blond guy only to see he had abandoned me again.
I wasn’t surprised. “Go.” My sister shoved me out onto the stage.

With sudden fear, I remembered that I was supposed to act like I was asleep on that bed of flowers; it would take me above the stage again. I stepped over the sleeping humans. The audience watched in silent anticipation—knowing that I was a ticking time bomb—and I moved even slower. I didn’t want to go into that contraption again. The techies would try to lift me back up and
whatever
that thing was would be inches above me and this poor little baby.

My steps felt heavy like I was half-asleep—no, maybe a quarter asleep. I knew it had to do with what that lady did to me, the lady I was now playing. Was she truly a faery queen? She made sure I was only a pale shadow of her. Peaseblossom and the rest of the faeries danced out behind me with the donkey in their ranks.

I decided to play it safe and landed on my knees, pretending to collapse
near
the bed of flowers. I was sure I was driving the techies crazy. The bed of flowers swayed, but they decided to leave it on the ground for now. My eyes felt unnaturally heavy and it was a relief to close them. The baby was still in my arms, but so far she was keeping quiet. She leaned her round bald head against my neck like she belonged there.

I listened to Oberon’s advance and in my daze, my hands tightened over the baby. No one was taking her, even if they were just acting. My connection to her was too powerful. The faery king conversed with his weaselly sidekick, Puck. “See’st thou this sweet sight?” he said. “Her dotage now I do begin to pity: then did ask of her her changeling child.” He reached down and tugged my baby away.

I sat up, feeling the pain tear through my head as he walked away with her. What kind of improv was that? The band on my head screamed a warning into my ears the farther he took the little girl. The separation would kill me.

I gritted my teeth to stop myself from doing anything stupid, but the pain was too much. Like a marionette, I was on my feet and dove across the stage. My hands landed against the wood and I flipped off it in a round of dizzying flips—which was crazy, since I was no cheerleader like my sister Daphne. I reached the actor and forced my legs to stay put, so I could snatch the baby back from his arms. He stared at me with an open mouth.

Where did that come from? Not sure. The audience gasped in delight. It wasn’t exactly the most efficient way of getting the little girl back, but my head no longer felt like it was going to tear off.

Ignoring Oberon’s shocked look, I dropped dramatically back to the ground, pretending to fall into another deep sleep. Laughter rippled through the audience. Oberon hesitated before he continued his lines, “Which straight she gave me.”

That sent the audience laughing again, but I didn’t care. I only wanted the pain to be gone. Now fatigue replaced it. Instead of a rushing pulse after my stunt work, my heart beat dully. It didn’t make sense. Nothing did.

“And now I have the boy,” Oberon said, leaning over me. I could tell he was more nervous this time, and he refused to touch me. “I will undo this hateful imperfection of her eyes. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.”

Somehow I managed to force my eyes open. The world seemed a little hazy. I concentrated on the toy in the baby’s hand. The mirror on it swirled. There was something in it. I blinked, trying to see it better, but couldn’t. “My Oberon,” I mumbled my line through thick lips. “What visions have I seen!”

I searched for the blond behind the curtains. Was he hiding backstage or was he out in the audience, critiquing my horrible acting skills? I realized that Oberon was waiting for me to finish my line. “Methought I was enamour'd of an ass,” I slurred.

The faery king pointed at Bottom masquerading as a donkey. “There lies your love.” I couldn’t even act surprised. My eyes rolled back in my head. “Come, my Queen, take hands with me.” He pulled me to my feet and I gasped for air, trying to keep myself awake.

Puck watched me with concern, almost like he knew what was happening, which was impossible, besides I was too tired to really read his expression, anyway. The faery queen had drugged me somehow, which was a stupid move since there was no way I could take care of her child like this.

I spied a scruffy blond head near the curtains. The sight of him worked like a slap to wake me up. Puck glanced over his shoulder. The blond smiled and backed away from all of us.

“Come, my lord,” I told Oberon. I was eager to get off this stage so I could wring some information out of that devilish knave. I did it the best way I knew how, cutting right to the end of our scene. “Tell me how it came this night that I sleeping here was found with these mortals on the ground?”

Oberon hesitated in shocked dismay. His eyes narrowed at his suddenly smaller role, but I could barely pay attention. My eyes were on the blond backstage and I advanced steadily on the culprit. “Gladly,” my costar hissed in retort. He jerked me off the stage with him as efficiently as a crook. Puck followed slowly.

The blond laughed at us and disappeared.

Chapter Four

But I, so wild,
Your disgrace, with the queer brown face, was never,
Never, I know, but half your child!
In the garden at play, all day, last summer,
Far and away I heard

The sweet “tweet-tweet” of a strange new-comer

—Charlotte Mew,
The Changeling

“Y
ou were wonderful!”

What a lie, and the hilarious thing was that they believed it. My family surrounded me, hugging me. Already, a bright bouquet of flowers was tucked under my arm, the baby in the other. I blinked heavy eyes, trying hard to concentrate on the world around me. That trickster could be anywhere around here. At least I hoped so. I hadn’t gotten far through the crowd of crying children and sleeping grandparents before my family grabbed me in the auditorium. Apparently this play was the best thing they had seen since . . . my last play.

My mom enveloped me in another big hug, all brightness and smiles. “I’ve never laughed so hard.” The laugh lines on her face showed differently. “What a great rendition of the play. We loved it!”

My dad winked at me. It looked like he had come straight from work—he was still wearing his suit. “Good job, pumpkin.” He put his arm around Daphne too. “The Starr girls were the stars of the play. And I’m not being biased.”

Daphne giggled and I sighed, resigning myself to my fate. This was going to take a while. My two youngest sisters, Kelsey and Leslie, flocked around me, bursting with sweetness and adoration. The twins didn’t mind that no one but us could tell them apart. In fact, I swore at times they liked it. They dressed exactly the same with pink shirts and white shorts over incredibly long legs. They were the mermaids of the family—they spent more time in the water than on land. And though they were a good four years younger, both of them had outgrown me by a few inches. Kelsey relieved me of my flowers and Leslie peered good naturedly at the baby, tucking in her pink blankets, and asking the usual questions. “Who’s this? What’s her name?”