The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles) (8 page)

"Hold on, Cassie," he pleaded.  "Hold on for me."

I'd do anything for you
, I thought silently, too tired to give voice to my unwelcome thoughts.

Chapter Nine

I had died and gone to hell.  There was no other explanation for the fire that racked my body, burning me from the inside out and making me want to peel the flesh from my bones just to give the heat an escape.  If, that was, I could somehow move, which at the moment felt like a task of Herculean proportions.

"Shh, Cassie, it's going to be okay," a honeyed voice crooned, wiping my brow with a damp cloth. 

I was horribly disoriented, having bounced back and forth in consciousness to do anything but lie quietly and long for the peaceful oblivion of legitimate sleep.  I moaned. My mind was a painful blur of fire and waking nightmares that left me weak both physically and mentally. 

"Drink this," the voice urged softly, holding a glass to my lips. 

I drank greedily, the cold liquid soothing the fire burning in my throat if only for a moment and holding the fire that consumed me at bay.  I wanted to say thank you, to ask where I was and what was happening, but it was no use.  My eyes felt as heavy as lead and my tongue felt too thick to form words.

I frowned and gave up eventually.  I didn't have the energy to force my body to do what I wanted, especially when I was so tired and hurting so much. Most of the time, I was nothing more than a ball of flame, the heat scalding every inch of me, making it hard to breathe, hard to move.  I drifted in the fire, crying out when the pain became unbearable and wanting nothing more than a dark and dreamless sleep, soothed in the odd moments I managed some hazy sort of oblivion.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen to you," the voice said darkly. It was so familiar, and I struggled to sift through my memories and capture the name.  I vaguely recognized it this time as Aleksander's, thick with an emotion I had never heard from him before.  Despair. 

I wanted to reassure him, to apologize, but I couldn't seem to muster the energy, fading out to the darkness and the pain instead.

I had no idea how much time had passed before low voices pulled me from the haze of pain again.

"It's my fault," the honeyed voice said, and this time I definitely recognized it as Aleksander's.  "I wasn't there when she needed me.  I'm not fit to guide her if I can't even protect her."

"You cannot be everywhere," said another voice, this one deeper and somehow comforting.  "You had no way of knowing she would arrive early, and even if you had, you could not have disobeyed a royal summons. The only one to blame here is Niall, and given his actions, I have no doubt the Unseelie were not being honest with Oberon about the disappearances of their Síofra. You have been by her side since she fell, nursing her back to health. That alone shows how much you care for the safety of your Síofra and how seriously you take your position.  Nobody could fault you for what has happened."

I wanted to open my eyes and ask what disappearances and what an Unseelie was, but the news that Aleksander had been with me the whole time, trying to nurse me back to health, distracted me.  A small heat, warmer than the fire in my soul but not painful at all, built in my chest. I tried to open my eyes, to let them know I was okay, but I couldn't pry them open.  I was a prisoner in my own body, immobilized and racked with a pain that scalded in its intensity. Instead, I lay still and tried not to move so that the pain would stay at a low burn and not roar back to life at full force.

"I wish I knew what to do," Aleksander replied, his voice full of regret. "I feel so helpless, Jackson.  I can't do anything to help her and it’s killing me.  You say this isn't my fault, but I still like I failed her.  If not before, then certainly now. It's just like with Margaret."

"She is not
Margaret.  You cannot blame yourself for her death forever, and I will not let you use Niall's actions to further punish yourself."

Who was
Margaret and how had she died? Why would Aleksander blame himself for her death? Was she bitten by piskies too? My mind filled with questions.

"It feels like it did then," he replied dejectedly.  "I'm not suited to be a Caomhnóir.  I don't even know what holds Cassie here let alone how to heal her. She should have gone back to her human body by now."

"It’s the venom, Aleksander," Jackson told him firmly. "Piskie bites are poisonous to mortals. It’s why she is still here and not in her body.  Her body is most likely rejecting her soul while the poison works its way through her system. Human bodies are amazing with their survival instincts.  Have faith, my friend, both in yourself and in her ability to heal.  I do."

There were footsteps and the sound of a door followed by silence.  I was alone.  I wanted to ponder what I had overheard but did not get the chance before I felt the pain roaring back to life and the void swallowing me again.  I was almost beginning to welcome it.

When I pulled myself back from the darkness, I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I was no longer alone and the burn was almost nonexistent.  A warm hand gripped mine tightly and Aleksander's velvety voice whispered to me.

"Fight it, Cassie.  You have to push it out of you.  I'm so sorry I let you down. I should have been there when you fell asleep, not arguing at
Court.  I should have been more wary when I heard that Niall had been at Court. He's always pulling some vicious tricks.  I swear, when I get my hands on him, I'll make him regret his actions. Fight it, Cassie. Fight it and come back to me.  I won't let you down again."

He let out an odd noise, almost like a sob.  I tried to pry my eyes open and look at him as he sat next to me, his cool hand wrapping around mine.  His normally bright eyes were dark with worry, and he had furrows etched into his brow from frowning.

"Stop apologizing," I croaked weakly, my throat burning from being unused.  "This is my fault. I shouldn't have listened to Sir Perfect Hair."

"Cassie!" he cried, grasping my hand tighter with one hand, the other hand stretching out and tenderly cupping my face.  I turned my face into his palm, the coolness a balm against the fire of my own ravaged body. 

"Where am I?" I asked, looking around the small unfamiliar room.

"This is my home," he replied quietly.  "When I found you, the venom was already spreading through your system and you were starting to drift.  I tried to tie a tourniquet and keep it from spreading but it was already too late. I brought you here so I could seek help."

I thought of the other voice I had heard, the man he had called Jackson.  I wondered if he was a doctor.  His voice certainly had been soothing enough.

I looked around the room with more curiosity now that I knew it was his home.  Under any other circumstances, I would have thought it was a charming room with pale blue wallpaper and a large window with delicate, lacy curtains filtering the warm sunlight cascading into the room.  I had never seen sunlight in Otherworld and it caught me off guard, my breath hitching when I saw how the light caught Aleksander's messy hair, making it almost look like a golden halo if not for the pained expression on his face.

"How long have I been out of it?" I asked, every word painful against the dryness of my throat. 

"Almost two days," he
said, his hands brushing my cheek, my forehead, my hair, as if reassuring himself that the fire that had burned through my soul was truly gone.  It was pleasant and soothing, and for a moment, a feeling of comfort and peace settled within me.

It was nice to know that someone had taken care of me.  My mother had always been the one to take care of me when I was sick.  Becca would sneak in if I wasn't contagious and keep me company, insisting that we spent so much time together that she probably had what I had too and at least she could keep me from dying of boredom.  She was such a good friend.

"Oh my god," I moaned, flooded with concern.  "Becca must be going out of her mind with worry!"

"She wasn't the only one," he smiled ruefully, still gripping my hands in his.  "Piskie venom can be painful to a Fae and fatal to a mortal, but you aren't exactly either.  I wasn't sure what it was going to do to you."

"So what's happening to my body?" I asked, my mind filling with all sorts of horrible imaginings. 

"It would have been sleeping the same as it does any other time you are here.  It wouldn't have accepted your soul with the venom, but I'm told that it would have burned with fever just as your soul did.  I imagine your friends think you've been ill."

I frowned and tried to sit up.  That was a bad idea, and I was dizzy. I ached from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and felt like I had been hit by a car.  I stifled a moan and laid my head back on the pillow, closing my eyes and trying to wait out the dizziness. 

"Don't push yourself," Aleksander cautioned, his voice full of panic.  "You've done a great job fighting it off so far, but let’s not push our luck, okay? I don't want you to wear yourself out” 

When I turned to look at him again, I was struck by the concern on his face.  I felt horrible for putting him in this position.  He'd probably get in loads of trouble if his charge was killed off by evil floating Christmas lights with needle-sharp teeth.

"I'm so sorry," I moaned, my throat burning again, this time from regret.  I felt the sting of gathering tears prick my eyes and looked away, not wanting him to see.

"For what?" he asked, confused. 

"For not waiting for you at the beach," I answered, "I should have waited instead of wandering off on my own.  I shouldn't have trusted Niall.  I knew something was off. I felt it and I didn't listen to it.  I know I've probably gotten you in trouble."

I wanted to say more but my throat closed on me, the regret choking the sentiments back.  It would have been better if he had raged against me.  I deserved it.  I had disappointed myself, and I was positive I had disappointed him too.  The pain of that thought was overwhelming and far worse than the flickering embers of pain in my body. 

"This isn't your fault, Cassie," he
said fiercely, his fingers on my chin forcing me to turn my face back to him.  I wanted to avoid his gaze but found I couldn't. Like a magnet, I was drawn to his regret-filled eyes.  "This was mine.  I should have been there to protect you, but I wasn't.  I should have warned you about the dangers here, but I was afraid to. I wanted you to know about all the wonderful things here before you learned about the darkness that lives here too."

"Why?" I asked, confused. 

Why would he blame himself? He hadn't been there, but that wasn't his fault. I could hardly expect him to spend all of his time hanging around a beach on the off chance that I took an early nap and appeared out of nowhere.  I wasn't narcissistic enough to think that his whole life revolved around me. 

"Because I was afraid you would choose not to stay," he said, misunderstanding my question. His face turned red with shame.   

I started to shake my head, to tell him no, that wasn't what I’d meant, but his last words struck me. "It's not like I have a choice anyway," I frowned, my head starting to hurt.  "As soon as I go to sleep, here I am.  I don't know how long it's been since you were a human, but we kind of require a couple hours of sleep a night. There’s not a whole lot of choice in the matter."

"You do have a choice," he
said, his voice heavy with regret. He refused to meet my eyes.  "I should have told you in the beginning but you were so upset by your friends dream and your refusal to believe in this world that I thought you would make a choice without getting a chance to learn what you would be giving up."

I pushed myself up in the bed until I was sitting up, this time ignoring the dizziness and the lingering stiffness.  I closed my eyes and focused on my breath for a moment, giving my body a chance to adjust to the change in position. 

"I don't understand," I said finally, opening my eyes to meet his.  "How do I get a choice if I wake up here as soon as I fall asleep anyway?"

He moved to sit next to me on the bed, facing me and taking both my hands in his as if bracing me for terrible news. 

"You aren't choosing whether or not to come here so much," he said, his voice small, unhappy.  "You're choosing whether or not to be Fae at all."

Chapter Ten

My head spun with his revelation.  I could choose?  How could anyone have a say in what they were?  Choose what you do with your life, sure. Choose your profession, of course.  Choose what you're having for dinner, what movie to see out with your friends, what radio station to listen to, absolutely. But what you actually were?  The concept was so alien to me that I had trouble grasping it.

"I don't understand," I said weakly, struggling to absorb this news.

Aleksander sighed and stood back up, moving toward the window and looking outside, his face somber.  The sunlight lit his face up, and even though he looked so serious and I could see the lines he had worried into his face caring for me while I was sick, I was struck by his beauty.  Most men couldn't be considered beautiful without seeming delicate or effeminate, but somehow he managed it.  The light showed off his golden skin and made his now serious eyes sparkle like jewels.  I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Some choices in life are final," he said, his voice so soft I had to strain to hear him.  "Like bridges that you burn behind you, once you have crossed that point, you can never return to where you came from. The path back is gone and you have nowhere to go but forward.  In the mos
t basic of terms, this is what the choice is.  It is a decision you will have to make for yourself, and once it is made, it cannot be unmade."

I arched an eyebrow and stared at him blankly.  "I still don't understand.  You can't choose what you are.  You just, well, are.  What exactly is it that I'm supposed to choose that can change that?"

"The fate of your soul," he said solemnly, swinging his gaze to mine and holding it captive.

His eyes were bright, emphasizing the serious tone of his voice, and I felt my trepidation growing.  I nervously fiddled with the blanket on my lap as I digested his words, the involuntary movement soothing despite the shocking statement.

"Like I've already explained to you, you are a Síofra," he continued after several moments, moving back to his chair and steepling his hands under his chin. "And a Síofra is the soul of a Fae born in a mortal body to a mortal mother. You grew up in a mortal family living a normal life until you reached adulthood. When you turned nineteen, your soul became aware of what you were and your mortal tether released, allowing you to break through the barriers and come here."

"I already know all that Aleksander," I interrupted impatiently, brushing the hair off my face and tucking it behind my ear. "What I'm not understanding is how there's a choice involved.  Nobody asked me if I wanted to book a trip to Crazy Town. I kind of showed up here on my own. That wasn't a choice."

He stared at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and I felt some of the pressure in my chest slacken.  "I am getting to that part. You are always so impatient to reach the heart of the matter, but this requires more explanation. Please, trust me?" 

I mimed zipping my lips and tossing away the key. He chuckled, and I gestured for him to continue, resisting the urge to poke him in his side instead to spur the conversation on.

"When you turned nineteen, you began the transition to adulthood and became responsible for the fate of your own soul.  It’s an awkward stage in life. You are no longer a child, yet not a fully realized adult yet.  This is why it’s such an important year for a Síofra.  As a mortal, you would be responsible for all actions taken from here on out and would eventually answer for them upon your death.  As a Síofra, however, your soul is in transition at this moment and is no longer physically attached to your mortal body."

"Not attached?" I blurted, cutting him off. "What do you mean 'not attached'?  That doesn't make any sense."  The thought that my soul was freely floating around in my body was more unsettling than the thought of being judged at death. 

"It doesn't make any sense because you are approaching this from a mortal standpoint," he explained patiently. I had the distinct feeling that he was being so patient because he felt unnecessarily guilty about those damned Piskies.  "To us, the soul is not just part of you. It
is
you. It is all there is to you.  When you are in the mortal world, your soul is encased in flesh, your human body, which is weak and vulnerable.   While your body rests, your soul, which is not yet anchored to that flesh, is free to wander.  As a human wanders through dreams when their bodies are resting, a Síofra is drawn here to be amongst others of its own kind. Your soul is not attached to your mortal body, nor is it fully attached here because you are neither mortal nor are you Fae.  At the same time you are both, which is why the Piskie venom made you so sick but didn't kill you. If you were a full Fae, it would have been annoying like a mosquito bite.  If you were a mortal, you would have died."

It did explain why Aleksander had been so worried about me when I blacked out if the venom was harmless to Fae.  My stomach rolled. Had Niall known that it would only make me sick if the Piskies attacked or had he tried to kill me? Aleksander's friend Jackson had called it a trick, but tricks were thin
gs like putting plastic wrap on a friend’s toilet, not sending them to their possible death.

I shook my head, banishing my dark thoughts as soon as I could feel the panic starting to build in my chest.  He probably hadn't known either.  Piskie attacks on Síofra couldn't be that common if Aleksander had been worried about the outcome.  I didn't want to think about the alternative. 

"So is this something that happens to all nineteen-year-olds? The thing with their tether? Or is this a Fae thing?"  I asked, forcing my attention back to the conversation.

"It’s a Fae thing," he explained, smiling now.  "
humans are different.  They always have an anchor to their human bodies that never lets them stray far.   If they get too far away, if that tether is drawn taut for any reason, they snap back to their bodies and awaken, like I've shown you how to do with your light.

"A Síofra’s permanent tether, however,
isn't created until they make the choice.  It's impossible to stay that way forever though.  It's too hard to experience life without any sort of mental rest, and a soul needs a permanent home.  It doesn't do well to wander about for too long. This is what you are now. A mortal with no tether wanders to the life beyond. A Fae soul without a tether to the mortal world comes here.

"So officially, before you turn twenty, you will have to make the choice between remaining a human or staying here in Otherworld and tying your soul to this world as a Fae.  It is an extremely important decision, because as I said before, once that choice is made, there is no going back to what you were before...”

I inhaled sharply and swung my gaze away from his, looking over the water.  Choose my fate?  I hadn't even chosen my own major. My parents had chosen for me. I was horrible at making major life decisions and usually avoided them until I had no other options. It had taken me ages just to choose a college to apply to, and even then, I had to have Becca and my parents help me pick.  Could I leave my friends and my family to stay here forever?  Could I give up everything I had learned about, everything I was learning about myself?  I felt paralyzed with fear just considering my options, let alone actually making one.  There wasn't enough room in my head to stuff this into and ignore. 

“How would an official declaration create a tether?” I wondered aloud, chewing on my lower lip.

“Words have power here, Cassie,” he warned me.  “We are bound by them, which is why you can never lie here, and you must always be careful what promises you make.  You will be bound to honor them whether you want to or not.  Once you announce to the Court your intention to stay, the tether will develop on its own and anchor you here.”

"How often do the other Síofra choose to remain human?" I asked.

I struggled to imagine how anyone could walk away from Otherworld after having been here. Everything here was intoxicating and amazing, my run-in with Niall and the piskies aside.  It was a paradise compared to my mundane life at home, with school and homework, work and loneliness. So quickly it had become part of who I was and filled an emptiness I had never realized existed.  How could anyone turn their back on that?  But how could anyone turn their back on their family? To never see them again?  It was unfair of them to ask me to choose, to show me the life that I could have—that I should have—and then tell me that the price was too high to pay.

"More frequently than you might think," he said, taking my hand in his and squeezing it sympathetically. His face looked troubled, and I wondered if it had been hard for him to choose this life and
who he had left behind.

"It can be difficult when they are attached to their families and their mortal lives.  For some, there is very little relationship with their mortal family.  It would only be a matter of time before they were on their own anyway, so walking away and losing the life that could have been is not a hardship.  For others like myself, the choice is not so
clear cut.  The prospect of not only losing their loved ones, but living so long that you would eventually forget almost everything about them is too much for them to consider.  Some have even already married and have children of their own by the time the change is upon them.   When a familial bond is that strong, saying goodbye to live a life elsewhere, even somewhere that they were created to belong, is unthinkable."

I felt the bitter taste of panic rising up in my throat, and I sucked in a sharp breath.  If I chose to stay here, I would never see my family or friends again. I would never get to feel my mother’s hands on my face, my father’s strong arms holding me tight and protecting me from the world.  To never see Elliott's smile, or hear Brittany's laughter was a price I had not considered.

I had always imagined that our adult lives would be spent near home, with family holidays, weddings, and christenings.  Getting to be the fun aunt who gave chewing gum and candies when their parents weren't looking. Watching my father teach my own kids how to throw a baseball, to fish, and to hunt. These were all things I had always assumed would be in my future, in their future.  Would I even be able to have children of my own if I were to remain here?

And what about Becca and Miguel?  Could I turn my back on my mortal family? My friends? I wasn't sure what was worse—losing everyone I loved and living forever with the loss, or living so long that the memory of
them faded altogether anyway.  My anxiety continued to build, my heart beating wildly in my chest, and my shoulders sagged with fatigue.

"What if they choose to stay human?" I asked, my throat tight and constricting as I fought to digest what he was telling me.

Aleksander turned to face me, sorrow etched on his beautiful face.  

"They forget," he said quietly.  "To them, their time in Otherworld, everything they learned here about themselves, all of it is nothing more than a dream.  It's too difficult to keep the memories of something that fantastical, so humans tend to dismiss them as if it had never happened."

I could see the pity shining in his eyes.  He had made this choice too. Almost everyone here had.  They had walked away from everything they had ever known to begin a new here.  Could I do that?  I wasn't sure I could, but I couldn't say that I would be able to walk away from everything here. I felt paralyzed with the magnitude of what I would be asked to do and felt resentful that I would have to choose at all.

"How long do I have to decide?" I asked.  I couldn't fathom choosing between my life back home and the life I wanted to live here.  To never even remember Aleksander?  The price seemed so steep to me, no matter which choice was made. 

"You will have until your twentieth birthday," he replied softly, rubbing his thumb lightly over the tops of my knuckles.  "You have plenty of time to make that choice. Nobody is asking you to make it today. It’s not our way to force the choice upon a Síofra.  For now, we will take our time and learn about the world here and what your responsibilities would be, and I promise this time I will teach you about the dangers as well.  That way, when it is time to make your choice, you will not have to second-guess yourself, you will know beyond a doubt that this is where you belong."

"What if I can't make a decision?" I
asked sadly.  Aleksander gently brushed his fingers over my cheeks and I turned into his palm, resting my cheek against it and closing my eyes.

"Then you will remain in the mortal world forever," he
said, his voice thick with emotion. "You have to formally relinquish your hold on your mortal body.  There is a ceremony where you would sever your ties to the mortal world. If you don't do that, your soul will create its own tether and you will remain a mortal." 

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, the warmth of his lips comforting me and loosening the tight ball of sorrow that was building in my chest, easing some of the pressure.

"You have plenty of time, Cassie. You have all the time in the world, and I have no doubt that, when the time comes, you will make the best choice for you.  I think that you will make a great Fae, but the choice is yours.  You have chance to guide your own destiny, Cassie.  It's a blessing most people don't get."

That's easy for him to say
, I thought to myself. I struggled with choosing nail polish colors, let alone a dimension to tie my soul to.  I didn't know if I would ever be capable of making such a momentous decision, especially one that would be irrevocable. Free will was not always a blessing. Sometimes it was a curse.  One thing was becoming clear to me.  No matter what I chose—a mortal life or a Fae—I would be leaving a piece of my heart behind.