The Changelings Series, Book 1 (7 page)

Izzy hadn't realized how hungry she was until Selden started talking about dinner. But when they all finally sat down at the wooden table to eat, her stomach grumbled its disappointment. The plucked hedgeons were no bigger than tennis balls, and there were only four gumroots left. Selden used his pocketknife to divide up the meat and hand out the portions. Izzy picked up a puny drumstick and took a bite. Either hedgeons were supposed to be pink in the center, or Selden hadn't cooked them completely.

“Oh my gosh, I nearly forgot!” She jumped up and went to the other side of the room to Hen's backpack. When she came back to the table, she held the two packages of cheese crackers and the squished peanut butter sandwiches.

“This is my contribution to dinner,” she said, unwrapping the food. She gave everyone three crackers and a half a sandwich.

Dree and Selden held the crackers at arms' length, flipping them over skeptically.

Dree sniffed one and dropped it onto the table. “Ugh! Smells like paint.”

“You can give yours to me if you don't want them,” said Lug, licking the outsides with his black tongue. “I like the salt.”

Izzy frowned. “Maybe you'll like the peanut butter better. It's the smooth kind.” She waited while they all took small bites of their sandwich halves. “Well? What do you think?”

“Fnicky,” mumbled Lug, his mouth full.

“What did you say?”

“I fed if
fnicky
.”

“Oh!” said Izzy with a laugh. “Yeah, it's really sticky!” The sandwiches went over much better. Even Dree didn't act like she hated them.

Izzy watched them eat, chewing with their mouths open, wiping their fingers on their already dirty clothes.
One day, four Changelings.
If it wasn't happening to her, she would never believe it.

“I've read stories about you,” she said. “I mean not you, specifically, but about Changelings.”

Again, they all cringed when she said the word. Selden looked at the crack in the tree like someone could be listening.

Izzy lowered her voice. “That's what you are, aren't you?”

“How ever did you figure it out?” asked Dree in mock surprise. “You must be the cleverest little girl in the whole wide world.”

Izzy ignored her and turned to Lug. “So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you all be pretending to be human babies or something?”

“We did,” said Lug, swallowing a mouthful of peanut butter. “But we're outcasts now.”

“Outcasts? What do you mean?”

“Kicked out by our human families,” said Selden. He took a bite of hedgeon and pointed the bone at Lug. “This one grew too big, too fast—”

“Nearly busted my own cradle,” said Lug with a smile full of crumbs.

“—and Dree could never make herself solid enough to pass as a human. Her own ‘mother' tied her up in a pillowcase and”—Selden flicked his hand over his shoulder—“tossed her in a river.”

“That's awful,” said Izzy. She'd heard about people doing that to pets they didn't want—and that was bad enough—but never to a baby.

Dree looked up from her plate and smiled coldly. “Day before Christmas.”

Izzy turned to Selden. “And what about you?”

“Selden likes to say he was cast out,” said Dree. “But he ran away and came back to Faerie on his own.”

“Well, I'm sure I would have been run off sooner or later,” said Selden, picking his teeth with his fingernail. “Your world's got too many rules. I don't see how you can stand it.”

“I guess I don't really have another option,” said Izzy. She remembered what Marian told her about Grandma Jean being her only friend. If it weren't for her, maybe Marian would have run away too and come back to Faerie just like these Changelings.

“So is that why you're all so secretive?” Izzy asked. “Because you weren't supposed to come back here?”

Lug shook his head. “No, lots of Changelings end up coming back. We're—” He stopped midsentence and gulped down a big bite of food.

Izzy looked up at Dree. The girl scowled at Lug with a look that said,
Zip it
. Obviously, they weren't going to tell her too much about themselves. Not yet anyway.

“So if you switch places with human children, then you must know what happens to them,” said Izzy. “Marian told me the Piper took my sister to Avhalon. Do you think that's true?”

“Oh yes,” said Lug cheerfully. “Good Peter always takes human children to Avhalon. They get adopted at the Apple Festival.”

“The Piper's name is
Good
Peter?” asked Izzy. “How can anyone who steals children be called
good
?”

Selden spat a piece of bone onto his plate. “It's not stealing. It's swapping.”

“Not this time,” Izzy corrected him. “If the Apple Festival hasn't happened yet, then that means Hen hasn't been adopted yet either. I'm going to find the Piper and tell him he's made a mistake. Hen has a family, and she needs to come home with me.”

“Splendid idea,” said Dree. “While you're at it, maybe you can ask him for a pony and a pretty pink carriage to ride home in.”

Lug kicked her under the table. “My, my! I am stuffed, aren't you?” he said, clapping his hands together. “That was just a fantastic meal, fantastic. The hedgeons, the peanut butter, all just lovely. Eat up, Izzy. You've hardly touched a thing.”

Izzy slid her plate away. “No, thank you, I'm not very hungry.”

Selden pushed away from the table and stood up to stretch. “We should get to bed. We need to be off early if we're going to make any distance by nightfall tomorrow.”

They all got up, leaving Izzy sitting alone with the greasy dishes.

• • •

Izzy woke up with her face plastered against a jagged piece of tree bark. Lug snored on the floor beside her. He had offered to sleep there so she could have his bed, but she wasn't sure his pallet was any cleaner than the dirt. It definitely wasn't any more comfortable. Sticks and sharp pieces of straw poked through her clothes and made her itch, and his blanket smelled like a mixture of dog hair and damp hay. She turned her head and rubbed her sore cheek. Pale morning light reached down through the opening in the top of the tree.

Izzy was just about to sit up when she heard the low murmur of voices. She turned her face and saw Selden and Dree sitting beside the hearth. She quickly shut her eyes halfway and strained to listen over the steady rumble of Lug's snores.

“Now there's no doubt,” said Dree. “Peter's working for
her
. It's like I told you. He's a traitor.”

Selden frowned and shook his head. “I just can't believe it. All these years. He dedicated his life to the Exchange.”

“But there is no more Exchange, is there? That releases him from his obligations. Maybe this is what he wanted all along. I'm telling you, Peter was always a mystery. I never fully trusted him.”

“But why would he steal a human child?”

“Because she told him to! Whatever is going on, we don't want anything to do with it. I don't know what that woman wants with a human girl, but whatever it is, she's not just going to let her go.”

Selden pointed his thumb at Izzy's pallet. “That's the shrimp's problem.”

“It's
our
problem if the shrimp gets picked up and questioned, which is sure to happen once she gets to Avhalon.”

Selden snorted. “If she even makes it that far. She has no idea what she's getting into. Are humans really this dumb?”

“Apparently, which is why we should stay away from them.” Dree leaned in close to Selden and raised one eyebrow. “I know why you want to take her to the Boneyard, and it's got nothing to do with repaying a good deed. You want to see if we can find anyone going to the festival who has some news.”

He shrugged away from her. “So what if I do? Don't
you
? Sometimes I think you've stopped caring…”

“Don't be stupid. Of course I care. But what can we do about it? Just the three of us? For now, the only thing we can do is keep ourselves hidden.”

Selden slumped and looked down at the ground. “We've been hiding for so long. I just want to know what happened to them, that's all.”

Dree reached out to put her hand on his arm, but then pulled it back as he turned away. She watched him for a moment, a sad look on her face. Then she got up and went outside.

Izzy shut her eyes tight. She tried to piece together what she had just heard. Who was this woman they were talking about? She had something to do with the Piper and with Hen. Whatever it was, getting Hen back home was going to be more difficult than Izzy had thought. Selden's words burned in her ears:
She has no idea what she's getting into.
Izzy was used to other kids talking about her behind her back, but this was different. What Selden said stung so badly because Izzy knew it was true.

A hot tear ran down, soaking the hair at her temple. What
had
she gotten herself into? Maybe Marian could have rescued Hen, but Izzy didn't stand a chance, not on her own. She couldn't even get out of this stupid forest by herself. All she wanted was to open her eyes and find out that none of this had ever happened, to close the book and end the story.

Izzy heard Selden's boots shuffling closer across the dirt floor. She blinked away her tears. Before he had a chance to say anything, she bolted up and pretended to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

“Oh, you're up,” he said. “Now we've just got to wake the sleeping bear.” He leaned over Lug and shook his shoulder. “Hey, snoring beauty! Come on, time to get up.”

“What's for breakfast?” mumbled Lug.

“Whatever we can scrounge up on the Road,” said Dree. She tossed a strand of crimson beads onto Lug's chest.

Lug sat up and looped the necklace over his head.

“What is that?” Izzy asked.

“Scarlet Stairstep.” Lug held up the necklace so she could see. The beads were chunks of the shelflike mushrooms that grew on the outside of Yawning Top, strung together on a piece of twine. “So the Unglers can't pick up our scent.”

Izzy didn't think anything could mask Lug's scent, but one whiff of the musky fungus proved her wrong. She now realized what had smelled so terrible outside Yawning Top. The mushrooms reeked like a pile of dirty, mildewed socks.

“Whoa, yeah.” She coughed. “That's strong.”

“Here,” said Dree, throwing her a smaller strand. “You should wear one too, since you slept in Lug's bed.”

“Lucky me,” said Izzy, holding the necklace away from her.

“Let's go already,” snapped Selden. “Now are you gonna get up and put your shoes on, or do we have to do everything for you?”

Izzy threw him a hateful look. She wanted to ask,
What's the point? It's all hopeless, isn't it?
But instead, she put on the foul necklace, slipped on her sneakers, and followed the others outside.

They walked all day, following the creek, never stopping unless it was to listen for the Unglers. At times, Izzy wondered if they'd gone in the wrong direction and were actually headed east into that vast, never-ending part of the forest that Selden had mentioned. She was so anxious to get to Hen that her stomach was in a permanent knot. Or that could have been the rancid mushrooms strung around her neck.

Izzy couldn't exactly prod the others to go faster, since she was the slowest one. Even when the Changelings were in their child forms, they hiked too fast for her to keep up. The thorns that scratched her arms and legs didn't seem to bother them. And the rocky ground didn't slow them down, even though Selden was the only one who wore shoes. By the time he barked at Izzy to ride on Lug's shoulders, she was grateful for the rest. To distract herself from thinking about Hen, she watched the Changelings. Selden and Dree were snobs, but they were the most fascinating snobs Izzy had ever met.

Selden jogged ahead, scouting out the way as a lean, black wolf or a stag with a rack of velvety black antlers. Sometimes, he'd disappear for a long time, then rejoin them as the stoat, holding a fat bird egg in his mouth. Dree either zipped along in her butterfly form or darted through the treetops as a silvery, scissor-tailed bird.

The next time Izzy and Lug were out of earshot of the others, she leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Why doesn't Selden turn into a bird too? Flying seems a lot easier than walking.”

“Selden can't do birds,” Lug answered. “He's
Sharp points against the world
, you see.”

“He's what?”

“Every Changeling has a range of things they can be. There's an old book of poetry in Avhalon called
The Bretabairn
. That's an old-timey name for Changelings. Each poem in the book lists the different creatures a Changeling might specialize in. The poem that fits Selden best ends with the line,
Sharp points against the world.
I think it suits him pretty well, don't you?”

“A stoat, a wolf, a stag. Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Now, take Dree. What do you think her poem would say?”

Izzy watched the gray bird swooping gracefully through the branches. “Well, the animals she Changes into are so delicate. Which is weird, because her personality reminds me most of a snapping turtle.”

“Ha! You've got it!” Lug said with a laugh. “She's
Fierceness beneath the lace wing.
Are you sure you haven't read the book yourself?”

Izzy smiled. “And what about you? What does your poem say?”

“Mine is quite fitting. I've never been able to Change into anything small. It ends with
Stout body for a strong heart.
”

“I think that's perfect for you,” said Izzy, patting the top of his hairy head. “But wait a minute—you Changed into a human baby once, didn't you? That's pretty small.”

“That's different. I never
Changed
into a baby. I just put on its Likeness.”

Izzy sighed. “You've lost me again.”

“When I become a bear or a ram or any of those creatures from my poem, that's a true Change. Taking on those forms comes naturally, just like breathing. I could be those animals for days and never get tired. But I can also put on the Likeness of something that isn't in my poem.”

Izzy thought of her first meeting with Lug. “Like a mossy boulder?”

“Exactly! I'm good at that one. A Likeness is just pretend. I have to concentrate to hold on to it.”

“And you couldn't hold on to a little baby's form.”

Lug chuckled. “Can you imagine me in a diaper? I tried to tell Good Peter I wasn't up for it, but when the Piper says it's your turn for the Exchange, you go. Didn't work out so well for me. But if a Changeling ends up in the right home and it's a good fit, they usually stay. They wear their human Likeness so long it becomes a second skin, and they get stuck that way.”

Izzy nodded, thinking of Marian and how the old woman could only Change the shape of her ears. She still didn't know what to think about the Exchange. Stealing babies seemed cruel, even if the parents did get a Changeling in return. She started to ask Lug about it but stopped herself. He seemed so proud to be a part of it, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings. Marian had said it was complicated. It must be if someone as sweet as Lug was involved.

They slept in the open that night without a fire, while the Changelings took turns at the watch. Lug showed Izzy how to heap dried leaves over herself to block out the chilly night air. She didn't think anything could be less comfortable than his bed of sticks, but this proved her wrong. She itched like crazy from the scratchy leaves, and every time she moved even a millimeter, her pile would collapse and expose her to the cold. So she lay as still as possible, trying not to think about all the bad things that might have happened to her sister.

If she fell asleep at all that night, it wasn't for more than a few minutes at a time. In the middle of one of her dozes, she felt the toe of someone's boot nudging her in the side. She sprung up to see Selden standing over her.

“Is it morning yet?” she mumbled hopefully.

“Almost. Did you have a good night's sleep?”

“Oh absolutely,” she answered without much conviction. She shook the dirty leaves from her hair. “I just love sleeping outdoors. It's so relaxing.”

“Really? You look like you've been trampled on by an ogre. You'll be glad to know we're almost there.”

“We're almost to the Giant's Boneyard?”

“No, we're almost to Shank's. Come on.”

Izzy grabbed her backpack and followed after him. “What's Shank's?”

“A trading post. You can't go to the city dressed like a human, or you'll draw too much attention to yourself. And you'll need a hat to cover those ridiculous things.” He pointed to her ears. “Shank trades in goods from Faerie and Earth. He'll have something decent for you to wear, and hopefully he'll take those clown clothes from you in exchange. He's a brownie.”

Izzy brightened at the familiar word. “A brownie! Like from the tale about the shoemaker.”

Selden raised his eyebrows. “I haven't heard that one.”

“You know, the old shoemaker can't make all his shoes, so the brownies come to his house in the night and make them for him. They don't take any of the credit; they just want to help.”

Selden turned with a wry smile. “Oh yes, old Shank is real helpful. He'll help you right out of the shirt on your back.”

• • •

An hour later, they crossed a rocky ravine and arrived at a low, wood cabin with a porch on the front. A sign with peeling paint read
Winchester Shank's Fine Apparel and Wares. Buy, sell, trade
.

Selden whispered instructions to the others. “Everyone stick to your normal forms. No Changing until we're out of sight from here. Shank doesn't know what we are, and I want to keep it that way.”

“What about me?” asked Izzy. “Won't he say something about the way I'm dressed?”

“Just keep your ears hidden and leave all the talking to me,” said Selden. “And whatever you do, don't go blabbing that nonsense about the shoemaker!”

Lug stayed outside to keep watch, while the others walked up the porch steps. Izzy smoothed her hair down over her ears and followed Dree and Selden to the front door. Selden leaned against it and knocked loudly. They heard shuffling feet across a sawdust floor. A round hatch in the door swung aside, and a beady, bloodshot eye peered out at them. The eye swiveled around and landed on Selden. The hatch swung shut again.

Selden knocked harder.

“We're closed!” said a scratchy voice from inside.

“You are not closed, Shank! Now let us in! We've got wares to trade.”

“Ha! Whatever you got, Selden, I don't want it. You ain't brought in anything worth a dung ball in over a year, and I ain't got time to fool around with your handmade junk.”

“It's not me that's here to trade,” Selden shouted at the door. “It's my friend. She's just come back from a little trip, and she has some things I think you'll be interested in. So let us in!”

After a pause, the circular hatch swung back halfway, and the beady eye reappeared. Selden grabbed Izzy by the arm and pulled her in front of the door so the eye could see her. It looked her up and down, then disappeared. She heard the sounds of keys being turned and bolts sliding, then the door swung open.

The man behind it stood about even with Izzy's shoulder. He wore a brown waistcoat and a pinched, sour look on his face. He worked his mouth and spat out a slug of something oily and brown into a tin cup. “I might be amenable to talkin' to her,” he said. “The rest of you can wait outside.”

Selden shouldered his way past the little man and walked into the cabin. “And let you swindle her out of everything she's got? We'll all come in, thank you. You brownies are so kind.” He threw Izzy a smug grin.

Inside, they walked up to a long wooden counter. Behind it, the walls were lined with shelves full of shoes—boots, slippers, fancy dress pumps, sandals—most of them looking very old fashioned. The cabin held other items as well. A section of one of the walls was devoted to hats hanging on pegs, and a glass-fronted counter displayed music boxes, jewelry, and other trinkets. Dree walked directly over to a rack of clothes in the corner.

The little man bent down on one knee to examine Izzy's high-tops. “Interestin',” he said. “Where'd you come by these?”

Selden stood with one elbow leaning against the counter. “She just got back from a trip to Earth. Stealing chickens off a farm in Chitterhaw. Didn't you, Izzy?”

She nodded and squared her shoulders back, trying to give off the air of a chicken thief.

“I see,” said Shank. “You got a good eye, girlie, a good eye. I ain't seen this type before. Course I ain't seen much of anything in a good while. These days, you cain't find a human that even believes in fairies, much less wants to trade with 'em. Most of the paths into Earth are closed up or lost, and the open ones got Unglers prowlin' around 'em. Business has nearly dried right up.”

Shank stood up with a groan and put his hands on his hips. He gave Izzy a greasy smile. “Tell you what, girlie. I'll offer you a pair of real nice slippers—”

“Oh no, you don't,” interrupted Selden. “She wants boots. You can keep the ratty slippers for yourself.”

Shank scowled at him. “Fine,” he said, shuffling behind his counter. “You want boots, you can have 'em. But my selection ain't what it used to be.” He climbed up on a rolling ladder attached to the shelves. “You want human-made or fairy-made?”

“Does she look like she wants a pair that'll wear out in two days?” scoffed Selden. “Fairy-made, of course.”

Shank rolled himself to the boot section, then rolled back toward them with his arms full of boots. He dumped them on the counter in front of them.

Selden began picking through them, turning each one over to examine their soles. “Nope… Not this one either. Too stiff…”

“What about these?” asked Izzy, holding up a pair of black riding boots.

“Nope. They've got laces, and laces break,” said Selden, clearly basking in his superior boot knowledge. Finally, he picked up a light-brown pair of men's boots with buckles on the side and flexed the soles back and forth. “These. They'll last the longest, and they're already broken in.”

Izzy looked at them skeptically. “But they're humongous. They'll never fit me.”

Shank snapped his fingers and shuffled out through a door behind the counter. “Ain't a problem,” he called from the back. In a moment, he emerged with his hands in thick mitts, struggling to carry a heavy black pot emitting ribbons of steam. He set the pot down in front of a chair in the center of the room. “All right, girlie. Boots in.”

Izzy took the boots from the counter and started to lower them into the steaming pot.

“What do you think you're doin'!” cried Shank, rushing over to her. “You gotta put 'em on your feet first, you ninny! How else will you know when they're the right size?”

Izzy looked down at the rising steam. “You've got to be joking.”

“Don't be a baby,” said Selden. “It doesn't hurt. Shank shrunk my own boots for me, and see how well they fit?”

“Back when you had somethin' worth tradin',” Shank said with a sneer. He took Izzy by the hand and led her to the chair. “Take a seat, girlie. There you go. Now, you just remove them lovely shoes, and we'll get your new boots all shrunk up perfect.”

“I hope you all know what you're doing,” said Izzy, removing her high-tops. She pulled on the big boots and swung her feet over the lip of the black pot. Gripping the edge of the chair, she lowered them in slowly.

“All at once!” ordered Shank. “Or else the toes'll shrink different from the rest of 'em.”

Izzy held her breath and let her feet fall into the pot. Hot liquid seeped in through the top of the boots and surrounded her toes as it bubbled. Amazingly, she didn't feel her skin scalding.

“That's it. Now, when you feel 'em start to get snug, pull 'em out.”

After a moment, she felt the squeak of leather around her ankles, and she yanked her feet out of the pot. The boots fit her perfectly.

“What'd I tell ya?” shouted Shank, slapping his leg. “Have a walk around, and make sure they're right. No refunds once you walk out the door.”

Izzy stood up and strode around the room. The leather was soft and buttery, and the buckles made a satisfying little clinking sound when she stepped. The best part was that the heels gave her at least a half inch of added height.

“There you go, Izzy. Your first decent pair of shoes,” said Selden. He leaned back against the counter casually. “So, Shank. Hear any news from town lately?”