Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series)

by Debbie Herbert

  An odd twittering noise drew his eyes to the brown, dead grass below. The blades danced with the movements of insect sized mugwumps, tiny furry fairies with pointed ears and teeny tails.

  A red cap, about four feet tall, almost bumped into him before realizing Kheelan stood there.

  “Ach. See me now, do ye?” His voice was scratchy and highpitched, with a distinct Scottish accent. His deeply slanted eyes twinkled in mild amusement and he stroked his long, fiery red beard with fingers twice as long as that of any human.

  Kheelan nodded and the red cap went on his way, leaving behind the clean smell of rain and damp earth.

  Kheelan cast a quick look in all directions to make sure there were no cu sith, fairy dogs, about. He’d never forget his first encounter with one at age eleven when the large green beast had seen Kheelan watching him and began its death howl, ready to attack. Only the swift action of his guardian, Annwynn, had saved him. Ever since, Kheelan wore an iron medallion that at least gave the Fae creatures pause before they regarded him as easy prey.

  Iron had the ability to painfully burn the Fae.

  Back to the business at hand. Finvorra, his current guardian, would expect some kind of report. Kheelan studied the fairies around him. The only thing different tonight was that there weren’t as many pixies as usual. No surprise there, he was sent to find out why so many were missing. A small group of them flew near the hedges, looking like giant fireflies. You had to be really close to see their tiny, delicate faces lit in the dark.

  This evening was like the previous, as far as Kheelan could tell.

  He knew from his wanderings that if he returned to The Green Fairy, there would be a large cluster of them flying around the shop. Something about that store made it mighty attractive to pixies. The key to their disappearances had to be connected with that shop, and possibly the red-headed human girl who worked there.

  “Tacharan! Changeling!”

  The squeaky taunts came from the edge of the woods, but Kheelan couldn’t see the fairy creatures.

  “He can’t even see us,” one of them said. A chorus of laughter followed.

  “Are ye simple-minded human one?” called out another.

  Finally, Kheelan made out the forms. A group of about a dozen ghillie dhus, wearing moss and leaves, ran in and out of the woods.

  Stupid Fae. And those were the good ones, the members of the Seelie Court.

  He walked on, ignoring the fairies as they, for the most part, ignored him. He picked up snippets of conversation, eavesdropping to see if he could learn anything about the upcoming Samhain battle.

  “If only The One of legend would come, we could defeat the evil Unseelie without firing nary a weapon,” a voice warbled.

  Kheelan slowed his steps.

  “Ach, bairn, don’t waste yer hope on that. Many’s the Samhain come and gone, and she hasn’t appeared yet.”

  “Mayhap because she’s to be escorted by a mortal.” The word was filled with disdain.

  “If we wait on humans, the entire Fae Kingdom will be wiped out and they’ll never even notice we’re gone,” said another.

  Their voices drifted away in a chilly breeze.

  He had to find out more about this legend. All he knew so far, from reading a forbidden book of Finvorra’s, was that The One had a spectacular rainbow-colored aura not many could see.

  Maybe if he learned more about it, he could find this legend. If so, it could help ensure his scheme’s success. Finvorra had been surprisingly tight-lipped about any fairy legend, even when tipsy from whiskey. No matter. He would find a way, he always did.

  Kheelan pulled his jacket closer and unexpectedly the image of the human girl arose in his mind. In the morning, he would go to The Green Fairy and arrange to meet her, see if she could be of any help.

  As a human, he had no special abilities without the assistance of a special fairy’s cross crystal, and the Fae were stingy in letting him use one. But he’d steal or beg for one, being careful not to arouse suspicion, for although the fairies largely did not speak to him, Kheelan knew they watched his every move.

  That was going to change. He’d had enough of them, was sick to death of them. He would win his freedom—or die trying.

  3

  The One

  This was getting really annoying. Skye rubbed her eyes and willed away the pesky dark spots plaguing her at the shop. She opened her eyes and dang if they weren’t still there. Floaters, Michael called them. Like little black flies at the periphery of her vision. As if the backaches weren’t enough.

  The floaters had started about a month ago and usually showed in the early evening. Probably something to do with stress or too much reading.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Glenna asked. “Someone needs your help picking out crystal charms.”

  “Thanks for your concern,” Skye said with a sigh, going over to a girl peering through the bins, looking uncertainly at the many rows of colored crystals.

  “Can I help you find something in particular?” Skye asked.

  “Every crystal has its own special vibration and purpose.”

  The girl gasped and dropped a citrine from her hand. “Oh, um . . . sort of.” Her eyes darted around the room, probably looking to see if anyone might overhear the conversation. Satisfied no one was close enough, she said, “My boyfriend, that is, my ex-boyfriend, he won’t even talk to me anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve got to get him back—”

  A familiar story. Half the students who entered The Green Fairy came for the same reason. The other half mostly showed up in a last ditch effort to magically pass a final or raise an abysmal GPA to avoid academic suspension.

  Skye picked up a large, heart-shaped tumbled rose quartz and pressed it into the girl’s hand. “This stone is known for easing heartache and attracting love.”

  “But—will it bring him back?”

  If it was that easy she’d have snagged Tanner long ago. “You can only focus on yourself,” she said. “The rose quartz is for you to accept and love yourself. Then, when the right guy comes along, you’ll be ready for him.”

  The girl looked at the pink crystal, doubt and confusion clouding her teary eyes. “I don’t want just any guy—I want my boyfriend back,” she repeated. “Can’t you put some kind of magic potion on it and do a spell or something?”

  Sure. Just do a spell. “We have some drams of a love potion and even a love magic spell kit where you can do your own spell.

  It’s got a pink candle in it and some printed incantations.”

  “That’s it! Just what I’m looking for,” the girl said, a grin transforming her face.

  Skye grabbed the kit from the shelf and directed her to the cash register. “But remember the rose quartz is for self-love and—”

  “Sure, got it.” The customer impatiently paid for the purchase.

  “Thanks!” she called out when she reached the door, no doubt in a hurry to test the spell kit’s power.

  “What this store really needs is a basic Witchcraft 101 class,” Skye grumbled.

  Claribel looked over from the bookracks. “Tried that once.

  The city almost closed us down.”

  “But it’s so frustrating. They don’t understand the first thing about raising energy and developing their own strength with the goddesses.”

  “Or the fairies,” Claribel agreed. “But I’m not going through all the protests and hoopla we had here last time I tried to teach a class.”

  Several black flecks flickered by the corner of an eye. Skye blinked rapidly, hoping they’d go away.

  Claribel peered at her. “Something wrong, Skye?”

  “No ma’am, I think I’ve been reading too much late at night and my eyes sting a bit.”

  “Honey, you need a break. Go have a seat in my office and I’ll bring you something to drink. Diet Coke, right?” “Really, I’m fine.” Skye protested.

  Glenna shot her a dirty look. “Maybe she should go home for the rest of the d
ay.”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business.” Skye sailed past her and into Claribel’s office, fuming. Even if she went home, Glenna wouldn’t give the customers the help they deserved. She sank into the purple velvet chair across from Claribel’s desk as her boss rummaged through a drawer.

  “Uh oh, I know I had my coin purse right here and now it’s gone.” Claribel lifted papers, set aside a pile of books, and started picking up and putting down everything on top of the desk. She frowned, absentmindedly adjusting the hair falling from her bun.

  The more she hunted, the more agitated she got.

  “Guess the fairies hid it.” Skye worked to keep the amusement out of her voice. Claribel blamed them for anything lost or temporarily misplaced.

  “The little tricksters are at it again.” Claribel grabbed a glass jar by the phone, half-filled with buttons, and began to rattle it and chant:

  “What’s gone today

  Be here tomorrow

  Fairies bring back

  What you did borrow.”

  It was just this sort of behavior that earned Claribel a reputation for being more than a bit eccentric. Many customers came only to watch her special brand of craziness. Hmm . . . not a bad marketing move. “It’s okay, I’ve got some money to get a drink from the vending machine.”

  “Can I convince you to try some stimulating rosemary tea instead? You know we have the best herbal teas.”

  Claribel always made this suggestion, always trying to get Skye to put something healthy in her body. A hopeless cause—Mom had been trying the same thing for years.

  “I’ll just get my usual,” Skye said.

  She walked to the coffeehouse area of the store housing several tables, a couch, and the counter where they served coffee, herbal and green teas, and pastries. While the rest of the store was light, bright, and colorful—Fae colors Claribel explained—the coffeehouse area was a warm dark green haven. Books were scattered everywhere and it had an herbal undertone overlapped with the scent of warm chocolate and home baked bread. Its coziness attracted students suffering from slight cases of homesickness and the lonely who yearned for a sense of belonging. Next to the crystal display area, it was Skye’s favorite part of the shop.

  She plopped down in the soft velour of the reupholstered sofa with her Diet Coke, popped more aspirin for the nagging backache and closed her eyes. Much better.

  “Your back botherin’ you again?”

  Skye opened her eyes to find Delia, the coffeehouse manager, looking at her with concern.

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “Have a brownie.” Delia held out a plate of goodies. “Fresh from the oven.”

  “I’m always up for chocolate in any form.” She bit into the warm brownie and moaned appreciatively. “You better stop feeding me so much. Forget the Freshman Ten; I’ve gained more like fifteen since I started working here.”

  Delia laughed and patted her ample belly. “I’m glad I’ve reached an age where I don’t have to worry about keeping up my figure.”

  Delia’s cheery normality never failed. She was well into her sixties, but had the energy of one half her age. Most of the customers called her ‘Mama D’. She had a way of making everyone feel special and wanted. She almost single-handedly ran the coffee shop part of the business. She was always the first one at the store and usually one of the last to leave.

  Her only regular help came on Fridays and Saturdays when Kyle came in from his group home. She accepted all his unusual quirks and autistic behavior with patience. In the few months Kyle had been working there, he’d blossomed to such a degree the group home staff was astounded.

  “Guess I better get back to it Mama D, before Glenna has a fit.”

  “Don’t worry about Glenna. If it’s not you, she’ll find someone else to make the brunt of her foul moods.”

  But the early evening was their busiest time so Skye returned to work. She helped customers find what they searched for, stocked several boxes of new books, and assisted Delia as much as she could in the coffee shop. Glenna sat permanently ensconced behind the cash register, not volunteering to do anything that required getting out of her chair.

  Claribel darted in and out of her office, ushering in clients for tarot readings. In between the readings, Skye fetched her cups of tea or hot pastries. Claribel had arthritis in her feet and ankles, and walking too much in the store made it worse. She usually wore hot pink fuzzy house slippers at work. Comfortable, but a professional look it was not.

  “I’ll need the chiastolite crystal for my mission,” Kheelan said.

  He pulled on his leather jacket and checked the mirror one last time to make sure he looked presentable for human company. It had nothing to do with wanting to impress that girl. He frowned at his reflection, then picked up the comb and ran it through his hair.

  Finvorra pursed his full lips. “Ye can’t leave now, I haven’t had my supper.” His Guardian leaned back in the recliner, stretching out his long legs with their misshapen, deformed toes. He took another swig of Scottish whiskey, straight from the bottle.

  “I’ve got some beef stew in the slow cooker. There’s plenty of it, should you have company.”

  “Ye better have made it with those little pearl onions I fancy. I imagined eating food would be the most distasteful part of my assignment in having to don a mortal body, but I find I quite enjoy it.” He directed a boozy grin at Kheelan.

  Worst Guardian ever. In the six months they’d been together, Finvorra had done nothing but lay in his recliner and boss him around all day before falling into a drunken stupor in the evenings. At least he wasn’t particular about the housecleaning like the last Guardian. Rhoswen had kept him busy constantly, making elixirs, planting her precious flowers, and chasing her Fae cat all over the place. Worse, Rhoswen never drank, so she was always alert, making sure he never had a moment to sneak looks at her fairy grimoire. The only thing she allowed him to read were the detailed household account ledgers. Most of the Fae were meticulous record keepers.

  “The crystal?” Kheelan prodded, when Finvorra closed his eyes and let out a drunken snore.

  “Um, hmm, right . . . it’s over there.” He gestured in the general vicinity of his desk.

  Kheelan seethed under his jacket. “May I have the key please?”

  Finvorra fumbled a moment, searching his pants pockets and then tossed it on the ground by Kheelan’s feet.

  “S’all yours.”

  Kheelan palmed the key and felt its subtle thrum. Made of ivory, it lay like solidified, chilled cream against his warm skin, full of secrets and promises.

  Kheelan opened the locked drawer, took the crystal pendant out of the black velvet charm bag, and hung it around his neck, slipping it under his shirt. His eyes took in the old, cracked leather book, Lore and History of the Ancient Sidhe. His fingers itched to open it and read more while Finvorra snored away. He desperately wanted to read up on the legend of The One.

  Best not to do so with Finvorra in the same room, his Guardian might be faking sleep to test him. The Fae were sly tricksters. There would be other opportunities to read the book and look again at the Record of Life and Death. Five months ago, he had found the record entry that revealed he had been lied to all these years—his human parents were not dead. They were alive and kicking somewhere in this very area.

  He locked the drawer and put the key on the coffee table by Finvorra. Unfortunately, the sound of the ivory against wood woke Finvorra and he cuffed Kheelan’s arm with a casual violence.

  Great, another bruise.

  Once he was out of the isolated house in the woods, Kheelan smiled in anticipation, but instantly quelled it. The redheaded human meant nothing to him—he was on the most important mission of his life—to break free from the Fae.

  He made his way to The Green Fairy without too much notice from the fairies. At the door, he paused, and ran a hand through his wind-blown hair. Satisfied he could do no more to tidy it, he entered the shop.
/>   The bells over the door chimed and the red-head hurried over to greet him.

  “Hi Kyle, I’m surprised to see you on a Monday. Are you here to visit Delia?”

  Kheelan stared at her dumbfounded.

  Who was Kyle? He continued gazing into the green eyes of the redhead, unable to speak. She reached up and touched a lock of his hair that had fallen forward.

  “Your hair—it looks longer than usual. Has it grown since last weekend?” She eyed him curiously. “It’s not as curly either.”

  Kheelan stepped back from the casual contact—he’d forgotten the sensation of warm human flesh. The Fae were a cold-blooded breed.

  The girl dropped her hand and scrutinized his face. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like to be touched.” She spoke cautiously, as if afraid of upsetting him. “Let’s go see Delia. I bet she’ll fix your favorite – hot chocolate, right? Just follow me.”

  He fell in step behind her, too stunned to correct her error. As much as he’d anticipated finally meeting her, had made up dozens of scenarios in his head, this wasn’t what he expected. She led him into a small room that smelled of herbs and sweet pastries.

  “Sit right here while I get Delia.”

  He sank into the comfortable sofa and took in his surroundings. About eight others sat around at tables, books open, talking quietly. Obviously, college students. A grandmotherly-looking woman appeared with a steaming mug and a plate of goodies.

  “What a surprise to see you today, Kyle.”

  Not nearly as surprised as he was. Yet another person who thought he was someone else.

  “I brought your drink and some blueberry scones. Did Melissa drive you here from the group home?”

  He took a bite of the scone to buy time before answering. How should he play this? Maybe the best course to solving the mystery was to play along with it, at least for now. He nodded and took a sip of the cocoa.