The Changeling

by H. P. Mallory

  It helped to think of things like that now. His drinking of my blood had become an act of intimacy between us akin to love-making, and to have it return to being a painful and unpleasant act was something I wasn’t looking forward to.

  Sinjin drew a gentle finger along my flesh, his touch exciting me as it always did, even in this somber situation.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Talk to your child.”

  He stooped over me, his bared teeth gleaming a brilliant white against the blush of his lips. I held my breath and then suppressed a cry, clenching my lips together as I felt his teeth sink into my flesh. I screwed my eyes shut as I felt tears rising. It was so much more painful than I remembered, but I didn’t want Sinjin to know how much he was hurting me. As much as I wanted to scream, I had to control myself.

  Instead, I tried to concentrate on why I was doing this. In my mind’s eye, I conjured up an image of my baby as she might appear

  this time next year; little Sinjin or little Bryn, crawling around, getting into scrapes, cuddling with mommy or playing with daddy, curled up in the bed between us, happy and laughing. With those thoughts, the pain seemed to lessen. I clung to the image like a life preserver.

  But I didn’t have to suffer for long. Though my eyes were closed, I felt Sinjin’s body jerk sharply, almost like a spasm. I heard a guttural gurgling from the back of his throat and felt him pull away from my body. As the pain subsided, I opened my eyes and sat up, startled.

  “What is it? Is the baby okay? What did you learn? Sinjin, is…

  Sinjin?”

  My master vampire sat back on his haunches on the floor by the bed, his face twisted into a mask of discomfort, his white skin now so purple, his face was almost black.

  “Sinjin?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  As he opened his eyes, I gasped to see they were all white, the pupils vanished all but for a faint grey smudge in the center.

  “Sinjin!” My own discomfort was forgotten as I rushed to him, but Sinjin still had control of himself enough to hold me back.

  His mouth was open, his fangs still stained with my blood while his lips were dark blue. From his throat came desperate choking sounds, and then suddenly his body was wracked by a violent seizure, throwing him to the floor, wrenching his limbs into contorted shapes, his powerful muscles contracting tight enough that it seemed they might burst.

  I rushed for the door and shrieked for help, but we were alone in the house, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave him—not like this. I ran back to his side as another spasm seized his body.

  But, somewhere in his wide, staring eyes, I was sure I could see Sinjin fighting for control, and in a fight, I would always put my money on Sinjin.

  A wash of red and black, flowing like a tide, passed across his blank eyes, and when it had passed, I saw Sinjin’s own eyes again. He struggled back to his knees, battling for control of his body even as his own muscles fought against him. More horrid sounds issued from his throat, and I realized he was trying to say something.

  “Ge…t… ba…”

  I got the message just in time, backing quickly away from him.

  Sinjin’s body doubled up, and with a final effort, he spewed a black tarry substance out onto the floor, shot through with blood. For a moment, he paused, his eyes rolling in their

  sockets, but then he took control again and forced a second stream of viscous fluid up and out of his belly.

  Exhausted by his efforts, he fell backward to the floor, his chest heaving, his face strained with effort but now reverting to its natural color.

  “Sinjin!” I ran to him, dropping to my knees beside his body. I caught his hand in mine and squeezed hard, not sure how aware he was of his surroundings, but wanting him to know that I was there with him.

  For a long while, we remained like that, on the floor together, Sinjin slowly recovering from his ordeal.

  “What was that?” I breathed.

  Slowly and painfully, as if he’d strained every muscle in his body, Sinjin shook his head. “It was blood when it came out of you, but it did not stay blood once it left you.”

  What did that even mean?

  “Maybe Mercedes can…” I turned to the revolting pool of black and red vomit and stopped. It was gone. Whatever it was that Sinjin had drunk from my veins and which had turned against him in his stomach, it seemed to have evaporated, leaving not even a trace that it had ever been there.

  I helped Sinjin up into a sitting position and saw him wince at the pain from his stomach muscles. It had taken every bit of strength the master vampire had to force himself to throw up.

  Whatever the foul stuff was, it hadn’t wanted to leave. It had wanted to kill him.

  And yet whatever it was, it had come from me. And from my baby.

  Sinjin’s eyes managed to focus on my face; his lips now faded almost to white.

  “Something is definitely wrong.”

  FIVE

  Bryn

  Explaining to the council what had happened wasn’t easy when neither Sinjin nor I actually knew what had happened, but I did my best. Sinjin stayed silent while I told the story – he didn’t like to show weakness, in general. And his attempt to help me had almost killed him—not something he was proud of.

  “Have you ever heard of anything like that before?” I finished, hoping our latest ordeal would at least throw some light on the mystery.

  But the question was met by a shaking of heads and blank expressions.

  “Vampires can sometimes tell from a person’s blood if something is wrong with them,” said Klaasje. “If the person has a condition of some sort. But it doesn’t usually make us sick. Definitely not like this.”

  “What about poison?” asked Rand.

  But Sinjin shook his head. “This was not poison. The blood actually changed. It seemed fine in my mouth, but by the time it reached my stomach…” He shook his head. “I do not think it even was blood anymore.”

  “Some sort of shifting spell?” wondered Jolie.

  “That works on blood alone and leaves no trace?” Mercedes puffed out her cheeks. “Ask Mathilda when she gets here, but I’ve never heard of such a thing. If only we could test the…”—she tried to find a more elegant way of saying ‘barf.’—“…residue. But it vanished?”

  “Like it had never been there,” I nodded. “Didn’t even leave a stain on the carpet. How is that even possible?”

  Nobody knew.

  “Where’s Mathilda?” asked Dureau. “She’s the one who called us here.”

  As if in answer to his question, the door opened, and Mathilda bustled in. It was too much to say she looked happy, or even optimistic, but there was an energy about her that suggested she’d made progress. Because I was a sensitive, I always saw Mathilda with a bright aura of power around her, and right now, that aura seemed to pulse with her enthusiasm.

  “You found something?” Jolie asked, keenly.

  “Not something that will cure Bryn’s baby,” Mathilda held up her ageless hands to moderate expectations. “Or at least… not necessarily. But a way of finding out what’s wrong. Probably.

  Perhaps. And maybe a route to a cure as well, depending on… I simply don’t know.”

  “Can ye mayhap finish one o’ these thoughts?” suggested Odran, impatiently.

  Mathilda nodded, taking a moment to compose her mind before continuing. “If you recall, I already said birth magic is one of the oldest forms of magic. Consequently, it’s also one of the most powerful. There’s no greater power than that of life itself, and birth magic draws directly from that well-spring. It was the magic that grew up wild and primitive when mortals lived in caves

  and prayed for an easy birth to an unseen providence they didn’t understand. A magic of hope and pain, jubilation and tragedy.

  It’s remained the most untamed form of magic, because life is unpredictable—like a lightning flash. They say it’s impossible to learn, that one can only use it if one is born with it—a mag
ic of instinct. But there are a few of the old ones left, the ones who first knew and used this magic.” She took a breath. “There are still those who are hidden in the folds of the world which reality has forgotten about.”

  She was a compelling storyteller, and we’d all almost forgotten how urgent this was as we hung on her words.

  “One such,” Mathilda continued, “is Gaia, called The Mother by those who venerate her. She was there at the beginning; she is the first birth pangs that were ever felt and the first cry of a babe that was ever heard. She’s made of that magic. Now she’s millennia old, and she will know what’s wrong with Bryn’s baby.”

  “Can we bring her here?” Sinjin asked sharply. Even he was leaning forward, fascinated by what Mathilda said.

  The old Fae shook her head. “No. She is so powerful now that if she were to re-enter the real world, it would snap under the force of her entrance. But she doesn’t need to come here. If we’re right, and this is the first child of elemental and vampire, then she will already have taken a special interest, I am sure.” She paused. “Of course, I can’t guarantee she’ll want to help.”

  “Isn’t that sort of her job?” asked Audrey uncertainly.

  Mathilda laughed. “Gaia is every aspect of birth. That includes the stillborn and the miscarried. It’s a mistake to think she cares about outcomes. Mortals knew even as they prayed to her that she was not a benign presence. They hoped they could appease her with offerings, like a god. I don’t know if it ever helped, but I doubt it. She’s not here to make sure births go well—they just are, and she just is.”

  “But my baby has been tampered with by some outside force.”

  Unconsciously I’d put my hand across my stomach as I spoke.

  Mathilda nodded. “And I’m hoping that will matter to her. If we’re right, then this is a birth that has been obstructed, and if that’s an offense to her, she might be willing to take action.

  At the very least, I’m hoping she’ll be willing to tell us what’s wrong, even if she’s unwilling to intervene. A direct appeal might also move her.”

  “Where do I find her?” There wasn’t even a question about who would be taking on this quest. Sinjin spoke as if it had already been decided.

  “She was first called into being in Africa,” replied Mathilda,

  “where the first mortals evolved. She may have traveled, but when she retreated from this world, I think she would have done so in the place where she was strongest. The oldest legends of her and the oldest depictions of her, center around the mountains of the Eastern Rift.”

  “That sounds like a large area to search,” said Sinjin, grimly.

  “I have a friend there who would know more,” replied Mathilda.

  “Get in touch with her when you arrive.”

  Sinjin nodded. “I shall pack now.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Mathilda’s voice called Sinjin back. “I know that nothing I can say will stop you from going, but you should be aware of the dangers, Sinjin. Vampires are strong and have limited weaknesses, but you are not invulnerable, as well you know. And against Gaia, you have all the power of a beetle in a hurricane.”

  Sinjin’s face registered his dislike of that particular comparison.

  “She is more powerful than anything you’ve ever encountered Sinjin. You’re a master vampire of six hundred years, but to her, you’re less than a child. If she wants you dead, you will be dead.”

  “Sinjin,” I started, all the while wondering if this was a trip that was worth it. At the thought of Sinjin being in danger, I rebelled with everything I had. But then I remembered who was also in danger… our baby.

  “You may want to sheath that rapier wit of yours,” suggested Dureau, someone who was often on the receiving end of Sinjin’s jokes.

  “Just reaching her will test you to the utmost,” Mathilda went on. “I know of no one who has accomplished it. It’s not a matter of pure strength or even mental strength. She will break you.”

  “She will try,” replied Sinjin.

  Mathilda’s eyes met Sinjin’s. “ She will break you . How you deal with that may determine whether or not she grants you an audience. I don’t want to mislead you Sinjin; this is not merely dangerous; it’s a guarantee of death if you do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, or simply if you catch Gaia on the wrong day.”

  “As I said, I shall pack.”

  “Perhaps this needs to be further discussed,” Rand started.

  Jolie nodded. “You could be voyaging on a suicide mission,” she started.

  Sinjin faced them both resolutely. “As this topic pertains to my unborn child, I appreciate your concern, but I will make my own decisions. This is not up for debate.”

  “But it is up for debate with me,” I said.

  Sinjin looked at me and nodded. “Of course.”

  “I don’t want you to risk your life, Sinjin.”

  He held my gaze. “If I do not risk mine, we undoubtedly risk the life of our child. That is not a risk I am willing to take.”

  I inhaled deeply and then swallowed hard. “It’s not a risk I want to take either,” I said finally.

  Sinjin nodded.

  And then I realized something. “Sinjin, you can’t travel alone.”

  He turned to me, raising an eyebrow and looking almost like the cocky Sinjin of old. “My dear Tempest, I had six centuries of life before I met you, and while I am all the happier for the meeting, I am not completely useless without you by my side. I have traveled alone before, and I can do so again.”

  “You can’t fly with the baby,” pointed out Jolie as she frowned at me.

  “I don’t mean me,” I replied. “But one thing Africa is known for is sunlight. We’re in a bit of a hurry, and only being able to travel by night is going to seriously slow you down, Sinjin.

  Plus, if you’re out in the mountains searching, then what are you going to do when the sun comes up? You need someone with you.”

  Sinjin looked a little embarrassed to have forgotten the most basic limitation of his species, but he got over the embarrassment quickly. “Very well, little fury, I shall take a volunteer.”

  “I’m sure anyone here would be willing to go with you,” Jolie said.

  I watched Sinjin scan the room. Dureau immediately straightened—

  he and Sinjin disliked each other, but he was as brave a man as any.

  “I volunteer,” he said.

  “I will let you know my decision,” Sinjin responded, his lips tight.

  #

  “I know you don’t like him…”

  “The fop is not accompanying me.”

  I stood beside Sinjin as he packed the few items he needed –

  vampires travel light.

  “I don’t want to be a nagging girlfriend, but you’re not going on a boys’ holiday with your friends. This isn’t about picking the person who you want to spend time with; it’s about finding the person who gives you the best chance of success and…”

  Sinjin turned on me aghast. “My dear hellion, are you suggesting I am putting my own comfort before your safety?”

  In a way, I supposed I was.

  He turned back to his packing. “In general, I want the frog as far away from me as is possible.”

  Suddenly I realized what he was doing and felt ashamed for having doubted him. “You want Dureau to stay with me?”

  “Not exactly how I would have put it, hellcat, but essentially, yes. If I cannot be here to protect you, then I want someone I trust here in my stead. In many ways, I do not trust Monsieur Chevalier, but when it comes to someone who would defend your life with his own, I trust him almost as much as I trust myself.”

  “And he doesn’t like the Daywalkers,” I said under my breath.

  Sinjin zipped his bag shut. “Well-spotted, Hellion. Just because you all played a few silly Scottish games together, everyone now seems quite happy to give the cuckoos in our nest the benefit of the doubt. The fop has many faults— many faults—but he
has not acquired that blinkered view of our former enemies living alongside us. He will watch them; he will watch you.”

  I could have argued, but we were about to be parted for a long time, and I didn’t want our goodbyes to be shrouded in a fight.

  “So who will you take? Rand?”

  Sinjin scoffed. “Hardly. Besides, I would not take Jolie’s husband and Emma’s father from them.”

  “And he also doesn’t trust the Daywalkers.”

  “The more people watching them, the happier I will feel.”

  “Odran? He’s strong and powerful.”

  He faced me with a frown. “We need to charm Gaia, not offend her.”

  “Mathilda?”

  “You are well aware she is too old.”

  “Mercedes?”

  “Already said she would not be interested in attending me.”

  That only left one person… “Not Jolie?”

  “Sweet Tempest, I wish I could take your sister with me, if only because it would be the closest thing to having you there. I certainly trust Jolie more than any of the men on her council.

  She has a mental strength that would put them all to shame. But I cannot do it. Not to Emma and not to you. This is why I already rejected her offer.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Jolie offered to come with you?”

  Now I thought about it, Jolie was by far the best choice. She might not have the strength or warrior skills of others of the group, but in the face of Gaia that might not matter, willpower was what would be tested, and in that department, my sister could compete with any of the men. She was a Queen, which would show due respect to Gaia. She was easily the most personable, the most likable, the one most likely to win over the ancient demi-god.

  She had magic of her own that might prove useful too, but most importantly, she loved me more than anyone. Like Sinjin, she would put me first and do anything to help me, up to and including giving up her own life. She was the perfect choice, but the idea of both my sister and my love going into such danger was more than I could bear.

  Sinjin laughed. “For so intelligent a woman, you can be shockingly slow sometimes. Of course, she offered to come with me! She approached me before we had even left the council chamber. Would not you have done the same if your positions were reversed?”