The Last Changeling (23 page)

“Oh my God.” My thoughts spun too fast to hold on to.

Iron comes from stars. Stars create light. The iron from stars poisons faeries. But without the sunlight, everything on earth would die.

We needed that light to survive.

“Light,” I mumbled, remembering the part of Elora's story that I'd been trying to find. Her words about the Bright Queen danced through my mind:

She was known as the greatest healer in Faerie
.

“I know where to go.” I kissed Elora's forehead as her eyes fluttered closed. I waited for them to open.

And I waited.

29

E
l
o
r
A

I was seventeen when death crossed my path. Before that, I'd only felt her cool breath on my neck as she passed me by. But late one night, death offered to take me home. She kissed my cheeks and told me stories of a land where I could fly without wings.

“
Come
,” she said, and beckoned.

I recognized her voice then. I knew exactly who was leading me into the darkness.

All I had to do was follow.

30

T
aylo
R

When someone dies, you lay her bones to rest in the earth and say a prayer. You scatter dirt and roses over her coffin. You don't carry her out of the cemetery and out of the known world.

But we did.

So Elora couldn't be dead.

This was the way I rationalized it as the six of us traveled over the ocean, huddled together on the backs of the horses. But she felt so cold, and her body felt rigid in my arms, paralyzed by the poison. If she wasn't dead, she was very close.

I chose to believe she had more time.

We flew for hours, Elora held tightly against my chest, Alexia clinging to my waist. I saw the sun rise and set. Then we passed through a strange, rolling fog that made me think we were entering Faerie. I kept my face close to Elora's, whispering promises I couldn't possibly keep. “I'll give you my blood, my breath, my life. Just don't leave me.” I didn't even need to open my eyes. I just needed to feel her chest rising and falling.

But something happened that forced my eyes open: a sudden onslaught of light. I blinked, expecting to see the Seelie Court in all its glory.

Instead, I saw the borderlands: the place where Bright and Dark Courts met. What fascinated me, more than the glowing light coming from the east, was the contrast of light and dark battling it out for everyone to see. From the western side, shadows tried to swallow the world, but the light wouldn't let them. As we swooped down, under a patch of cold, wet clouds, I saw another sign of the battle between Bright and Dark: thin, black trees rose up in a line, stretching over what must have been the length of the borderlands, while long, green vines from the Bright Court tried to choke the life out of them. Still, those trees kept growing, and still those vines reached, forever battling, never able to rest. It must have been so tiring, devoting every waking moment to that kind of hatred. And Elora had been raised to hate the bright faeries
and
humanity. No wonder she was so tired.

No wonder she wanted to rest.

“We're almost there, baby,” I promised, calling her the sweet things I'd never had the courage to say before. It all seemed so stupid now, my reservation. My fear. Back then, the worst she could have done was reject me. Now she might die in my arms.

“I love you,” I whispered in her ear.

She said nothing.

We arrived. Our flying horse reared back in midair, like she wasn't able to fly past the border. I knew, or thought I knew, that her aversion was based on fear rather than a physical barrier, and I stroked her neck with my hand, though it only made her feathers dr
op.

“Please,” I begged, loud enough for her to hear me over the rush of the wind. “Please do this for Elora.”

She brayed loudly, but in a rush of speed burst past the border. Feathers were dropping freely now, and her coat looked paler than it had before. I wondered if the light was causing her to
fade
. But I didn't know what I could do about it, because I didn't know where we were supposed go. Should we just drop down in the middle of the forest and expect the Bright Queen to
know
?

Then out of the forest came a doe, the largest doe I'd ever seen, and though I had to assume they'd never met before, the horses seemed to recognize her, and followed.

When our horse dipped down to the tops of the trees, she practically flickered out of substance. For a second, I actually thought she was going to disappear.

“What's happening?” Alexia hissed into my ear. Her grip tightened around my waist, making it hard to breathe.

“It's a trick,” I said, twisting around as much as I could. “It has to be a trick.”

“Why?” Her voice was too loud, after the hours of silence.

“Because this horse isn't disappearing. I can
feel
her. Can't you?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, her grip loosening the tiniest bit. “But I still don't like it.”

I didn't like it either. I wanted to tell the fey horse she'd done enough, but there was no way I would be able to catch that doe on foot. She was bounding between trunks, over brambles and through gales of light. It occurred to me, then, that the light might be hurting Elora; I looked down and saw that the symbols on her skin
had faded completely. Her hair was practically ablaze, the red strands laced through with gold. But the rest of her was just as visible as always, and the light didn't seem to bother her at all.

Why would the Bright Court's light have so little power over the Dark Princess? Did it have to do with what Naeve had said to her in the cemetery?

You've always been your father's daughter.

I didn't have time to wonder. I only had time to be thankful, because now we'd reached a patch of trees so guarded that there was a canopy of leaves blocking us. The deer had gone in and not come out, so we needed to go in too. There was only one problem—the horse either wouldn't or couldn't enter.

We were stuck.

“Please,” I begged, though I hated to say it. Would the light be
brighter bene
ath t
hose glowing leaves? Would it hurt
her?

I started to panic, trying to figure out how possible it would be to carry Elora from the horse onto the branches. Never mind that between Aaron's accident and the oak in the cemetery, the branches of a tree were the last place I wanted to be. If it was my only choice, I would take it. I would risk my own death to save her.

I reached out for the nearest branch.

“Ouch!” the branch squealed, peeling away.

Great. The trees can talk here.

And the branch had bent in an entirely unbranchlike fashion. It moved like an arm.

“Show yourself,” Kylie said, coming up beside us on the other horse. Keegan sat behind her, and Brad, dazed and useless, was strapped to Keegan with a vine.

The branches shook like they were snickering.

“Please help us,” I said. “Please. She's dying. I'll do anything.”

“Ooh. You said the magic words,” trilled a voice close to my ear.

I turned my head.

There, sitting on a branch, was a girl who wasn't a girl. Her skin was the color of bark and leaves grew out of her head like hair. She had teeth like sharpened twigs, and when she grinned, I thought she might eat me.

She peeled herself away from the branch that had appeared to be a part of her.

The horses snorted and reared back, but now more creatures were slinking out of the holes in the tree and crawling out from between the branches. Creatures who didn't bother with clothes, who had hair like vines or knotted branches or brambles. Without a word, they too
k Elora out of my arms. Others circled Brad, whispering about “the mortal offering” with his horse.

I'll deal with that later.

The faeries led us down the tree, but they wouldn't let my friends into the space where the doe had gone. They only let me, probably because I'd offered to give up
anything
to help Elora. Now the light was so bright I wanted to sew my eyelids shut. I couldn't see anything, but using my hands, I found my way to the place where they'd laid Elora on the ground. I heard them disappear back into the tree, or into their glamour, or wherever they went to spy on visitors.

“Where are you?” I said, blinking as if my eyes could
ever get used to this brightness. “I can't see—”

Then, just like that, it was gone. It felt like all the light had been sucked out of the room, and in its place, black spots loomed over everything. I was defenseless. Anyone could have come at me. I understood, in that moment, the brilliance of the Bright Queen's power. People could use whatever weapons they wanted, but if they were accustomed to sight, they would be useless the minute it was taken away.

And I felt useless. Maybe that was the idea. But I would still protect Elora with my life.

I draped myself over her, trying my best not to touch any of her wounds.

“Show yourself,” I said softly, imitating Kylie.

Laughter filtered over me like light, and behind the black spots I could make out flashes of the doe's body. Then, before my
sight fully returned, the doe
began to change. But unlike Naev
e in the cemetery, her body did not melt away. Rather, it grew, until a creature three times my size towered over me. She was frightening but beautiful, soft but strong. She was everything I expected, and nothing I could have imagined.

“Your Grace.” I bowed my head. It hurt to look away from her, from skin that was the color of earth and eyes that were so like mine, but brighter, almost blinding. She'd bound her body in a gown of glowing green, and the tops of her breasts spilled out over the top, but any sexuality was cancelled out by the feeling that I was looking at my true mother.

The mother of everyone on earth.

“Take heart, child,” she said in a gentle voice, “And look at me.”

I did. But suddenly that light was back, and I threw my arm across my face.

“Forgive me, young one.” Her laughter trickled over me. “An old joke.
”

“Hilarious.” I struggled against the brightness.

“I thought it would be,” said the Bright Queen. “Now, give an old woman some room.”

Her words seemed to amuse her. Another joke? Sure, she was ancient, but she looked everlasting. Leaves and vines grew out of her hair, green to match the forest, and her lips were stained like she'd been eating berries.

I hope they were berries.

I gave her the room she asked for, but only a little. Elora lay in the grass, curled up in a fetal position, her chest barely rising and falling with each breath.

“Thank you for doing this,” I said.

“I haven't agreed to anything yet.” The Queen's skirt billowed around her as she knelt, trailing a hand across Elora's forehead. It shoul
d have been a soothing movement, but her nails were long, like sharpened knives, and I thought I saw the thinnest trail of blood.

“I understand,” I said, only partially lying. “What w
ould you ask in return?”

“A simple token of your loyalty.” She touched her bloody finger to the earth and a drop of water sprang up. Soon there was a pool there, sinking into Elora's clothes. Washing the blo
od from her skin.

“Just a little, to draw out the poison,” said the Queen. “Blood holds such power.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, horrified at the possibility of Elora bleeding out right in front of me. But the Queen wouldn't let that happen. She hadn't invited us in here just to murder the daughter of the Dark Lady.

My heart started to pound.

“I can give you—”

“Your blood?” she asked. “Oh, Brightness, no. As you can see, I have plenty of blood.”

She gestured to the pool, where the water had turned from crystalline blue to magenta.

My heart screamed for relief, but I couldn't backtrack now. Whatever the Queen was planning, I had to try to save Elora. I had to believe it was a possibility.

“Let me make this clear,” I said as Elora's breathing softened. “And I say this knowing full well it's a foolish thing to offer. But I would give you anything to save her. Whatever you want for her life, just ask.”

The Queen's smile grew so big it almost eclipsed her face. Sharp teeth slipped out from between her lips. I wondered, in that instant, if her lips were dark because her teeth were constantly cutting into them. What would happen to a person who'd spent centuries in that kind of pain?

“I'm at your mercy,” I said, in spite of the danger. “I'll do anything so that she can live.”

“Isn't that sweet? But I would only ask for a very small offering. And, after you give it, you get to keep it.”

Another riddle?

“Tell me,” I said, creeping right up to danger and calling out to it. Even kneeling, the Bright Queen could crush me in an instant. Her light could burn me up.

Turn me to ash.

“I ask only one thing,” she said to me. “A name.”

I looked down at Elora. The bloody water was sinking away now, crawling back into the ground. “I don't know her full name.” I cradled Elora's head in my lap. She was still breathing, but it was even harder to detect.

“I'm not asking for her name,” said the Queen.

“You want my name?”

Elora sighed, and my heart leapt. My body started buzzing. But maybe it was a warning of some kind.

“You just want my name?” I repeated.

“A simple token.”

It's a trick.

I don't know if the words came from me or from somewhere else. Holding Elora in my lap, I could feel her energy. Maybe I was tuned in to her thoughts somehow; I didn't understand how I could intuit such a thing about the Queen
on my own. Then again, maybe a part of me was remembering Elora'
s story.

What did she say about names?

It didn't matter. I would give the Queen my life if it meant saving Elora's. “My name is Taylor—”

Elora's lips parted, and I leaned in. Was she trying to tell me something about giving away a name? After all, she'd only given me her first name, and that had taken weeks.

It doesn't matter
.

“Taylor Christopher—”

This time, Elora shook a little, and moaned as if in the throes of a nightmare.

Don't give up your name
, warned a voice inside my head.
Names are power. Giving a name is giving up power.