The Changeling Soldier

by Shona Husk

“Don’t tell Melody what?” A woman appeared in a doorway, all legs and long blond hair. The tiny shorts and high heels helped with the look. Heels, however, couldn’t make the shorts classy—no matter how beautiful the shoes were. And they were something to behold. Turquoise with beads and flowers, they looked like something that could have come from Annwyn. Not that fairies usually wore heels, as it was too easy to fall, or be tripped, and create a scene.

  Ella bit back the sigh and reminded herself that starlets were the new royalty, and this was how she earned the money needed in the mortal world, but more importantly she loved the fabric and colors, the cut and fit of fashion. She always had. Even in Annwyn she’d been dressing the Queen and leading the trends.

  “That you don’t need a new dress for every event,” Isaac replied easily, as if used to smoothing things over with his sister on a regular basis. Except for the dark honey-blond hair, they were nothing alike. Isaac had the sharp cheekbones and pale eyes that spoke of fairy heritage and drew the eye, while Melody was merely beautiful. Among the pretty people and other wannabe actresses, she didn’t stand out. Isaac, on the other hand, could have walked into any talent scout’s office and been snapped up at least for modeling, if not acting, before he’d uttered a word.

  Melody gave a quick pout, then smiled. “I need to look the part of a successful actress. I need producers and directors to remember me, and not because I wore the same thing to last month’s charity event.” She looked at Ella. “Soldiers—they think everyone should wear a uniform. He just doesn’t get fashion.”

  Ah, soldier. She flicked a glance at Isaac again. That fit; she could almost see him with a sword in his hand…except humans now used guns, not swords. It was a pity. Swordsmanship required a certain grace and athletic skill she’d once admired. “Home on leave?”

  “Permanently. Ten years of service was enough.”

  “Don’t be so modest. He’s got medals and all kinds of things. A real war hero.” Melody gushed as if she was proud of him, but Ella doubted that was the whole story. There was a tension between them.

  “I was just doing my job.” He brushed past Melody and into the lounge room, where he placed her bag down. “Will that be okay?”

  “Yes, that’s fine, thank you.” She didn’t even have to pretend to smile and be grateful. He was more intriguing with every breath. Perhaps after the power shift, when spring had returned to Annwyn, she’d come back and find him.

  Then she remembered why she didn’t play around with mortals—at least not for any length of time. They died. Compared to them, she was immortal. At six hundred and seventy-three mortal years, she was young for a fairy. Well, maybe not young, but well into adulthood and at an age where she should’ve secured her power base and had an advantageous marriage or at least a profitable affair.

  She doubted either would happen. Too many would wonder if she’d go insane like her father. At least he’d fallen from grace in spectacular style instead of merely being ousted by political maneuvering. That had also happened, and while she’d once hated the very mention of the name Verden ap Hollis, he’d simply taken advantage of a delicate situation. That hadn’t stopped her from toasting his downfall though when she’d heard the news.

  “I’m so excited to see what you’ve brought!” Melody smiled, but it wasn’t natural. It was too wide and too bright. “Don’t you look chic even in this heat? I’m practically melting.”

  Ella was pretty sure ice would have a hard time melting in here. It was freezing, like standing barefoot in snow. She wished she’d worn boots, but that would’ve looked odd in the middle of summer. Even the room was decked out in wintery shades of white and turquoise. Melody’s favorite colors or what some designer had told her to decorate with?

  “I’m one of those cold-blooded people. I love the heat.” The lie rolled easily off Ella’s tongue. People weren’t actually cold-blooded like snakes, she knew that, but the expression suited her purpose. “Shall we get started?” She turned up her personality so it would match Melody’s. Attuning herself to her clients always paid off. She was aware of Isaac sitting in the corner of the room like a bodyguard.

  “Don’t mind him.” Melody sat down on the white sofa. “He lives here as well as being my bodyguard and sometimes date.”

  “Unless she gets a better offer,” he said without a trace of bitterness.

  “Don’t be like that.” Melody twisted around. “Everyone loves you.”

  “They like the stories you tell about me.” He picked up a book, signaling the end of the conversation.

  Isaac was trying to read, but instead he watched as Melody and Ella pored over fabrics and sketches. They talked colors and laid pictures out with different bits of fabric. It was less interesting than what he’d thought it would be. The only redeeming part was Ella.

  She was beautiful in a way that made it hard for him to look away. Something about her drew his gaze even though she wasn’t what he would’ve considered his type. Perhaps it was the way she’d looked at him with a hunger that hadn’t quite been disguised. There’d been a moment on the doorstep when he’d wanted to forget about his sister and get to know Ella better.

  He glanced up from his book—it was less interesting than Ella. There was a grace in her movements that he admired, and even though she was petite, nothing about her suggested weakness. She seemed to be managing Melody without any drama. When Ella glanced his way he lowered his gaze and pretended to read without seeing a word.

  Ella fingered her hair, nodding as she listened to Melody then she reached for more fabric. Her dark brown hair was cut short, pixie short, the way it framed her face made her seem quite delicate. Yet in that moment he’d touched her hand, the only impression he’d got was of cold and power.

  He had no idea what that meant, maybe only that she was cold, which was why he’d offered to tweak the air conditioning. She’d looked extremely grateful. Sometimes the impressions he received were nothing important. Other times he knew moments before something bad was going to happen.

  Psychic Isaac. In the army, that had been shortened to Psychic. The first time his men had laughed off the warning even though he’d sworn something was up. Five minutes later they’d come under attack. After a couple more times, no one had doubted him. But it made him different.

  He didn’t quite fit in, and those times when he got no glimpse of the future he was left feeling guilty. And then there were the looks from the other soldiers, like he should’ve known and done something. Or worse were the times he saw men die and couldn’t save them. Whatever he had didn’t work that way. He couldn’t change the future and he never knew more than thirty minutes in advance. Usually it was less.

  Except with his dream.

  It hadn’t happened yet. Maybe it never would. But he didn’t believe that, not when it was still unfolding and becoming more frequent. In daylight, when the dream was a fading memory, it was easy to brush aside thoughts of fairies. It was much harder in the dream when everything felt so real. He closed his eyes and was able to recall all the details as if it were a real memory; the weight of the sword and the crunching of his footsteps in snow.

  The chill on his skin…and on Ella’s hand when he’d touched her.

  There’d been a jolt when he’d touched her. Something more than just simple attraction.

  A warning?

  He opened his eyes and watched her for a moment. Something wasn’t right. And yet there was no tightening of his gut or the brush of impending danger over his skin, only a desire to get Ella alone. Something about her called to his blood. It’d been a long time since any woman had affected him so strongly. As he watched he was sure he wasn’t seeing everything. By the front door her eyes kept changing from brown to yellow as though he was seeing an illusion, but he wasn’t sure what was real. He’d brushed it aside…but an old memory snagged the edges of his mind.

  He’d seen fairies as a kid, but they were diminutive and generally ugly. However, when he’d caught one it had become beaut
iful—sort of. It depended on how he’d looked at it, but he could see the ugly behind the mask. It had offered him a deal for its life and for a moment he’d been tempted. The idea of getting away from his mother’s boyfriend and out of the trailer park had been so tempting at age eight.

  Then Melody had run up and asked him if he’d caught it. She wanted to see the fairy but couldn’t. The fairy had laughed and bitten him. He’d dropped it and let it go. That was the last time he’d played that game with Mel. The last time he’d admitted to seeing fairies to anyone. And the time he’d realized they were dangerous.

  The fairy had promised him anything he wanted in exchange for his soul.

  Ella laughed, and he looked up. She caught his gaze and for a moment her eyes weren’t golden hazel; they were yellow, and her face became even more enchanting. He wanted to taste her lips just once.

  In that heartbeat he realized the real Ella had yellow eyes, not brown. He was seeing through the fairy illusion she was casting. He should be afraid. But it wasn’t fear that made his heart beat faster and his blood pump harder. It was desire. Before he could catch hold of that feeling and work out what to do next, the white of the lounge room fell away as he slid into a premonition.

  He was in that place again, the clearing surrounded by trees. The crisp scent of cold numbed his nose and lips as it burned his lungs. Snow was falling all around, carpeting the ground. Through the snow he saw a castle. While he couldn’t make out the details, he swore it was made of trees. Today the clearing was different. There were no bodies and no blue blood. There were no armies lined up to fight and he had no sword.

  This was new.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Ella was next to him.

  “Give me your soul, and I’ll keep it safe while you are in Annwyn,” Ella said as she placed her hand on his chest. Snow caught on her dark eyelashes. Her eyes were the palest of gold.

  Logic screamed that he’d be dead without a soul, but all he could do was nod in agreement.

  Isaac gasped, his heart giving a hard beat as though it had forgotten what to do while he was…not daydreaming, but not here either. Ella smiled and glanced away. The whole thing had happened in a split second even though it seemed like longer to him. He knew what she was. Fairy.

  To most people the more realistic explanation was that he was delusional and had some kind of mental disorder that he’d masked since he was a child and that the army had somehow missed.

  The vision replayed in his mind. Her lips moved. Isaac realized that he’d heard her crystal clear. While that was unusual, the words she’d spoken were more concerning.

  More troubling, why had he agreed? He glanced down at the unread page of his book, his pulse thudding in his ears as the adrenaline slowly faded, even if the vision didn’t.

  That hadn’t been an idle fantasy. An idle fantasy with Ella would’ve involved somewhere warm and with less clothing. Not the surrendering of his soul to a woman he didn’t know, and to a fairy no less. He glanced up again. This time he saw clearly through her illusion without trying, but there was no ugly fairy behind a mask of beauty. She was hiding her beauty behind a mask of ordinary.

  He touched his chest where Ella had placed her hand in the vision. How long did he have? Seconds? Minutes? He never got enough warning and he could never change the future. Ella was going to take his soul, and he was going to let her—no, he was going to enjoy it. He’d been happy in his vision, not troubled or afraid. Even now fear didn’t rise up. There was no panic. Cold fingers of certainty wrapped around his heart.

  Ella held up colors to Mel’s face, and his sister smiled, loving being the center of attention. However, his attention was still on Ella. The way she moved, talked and laughed. He was almost sure she had no idea what was going to happen.

  He took a deep breath. He needed to work out what was going on. The loss of his soul hadn’t happened here. They’d been in the snow. In Annwyn. She’d given the place a name. In his heart it rang true, even though he’d spend years trying not to name it and pretend the battle was all in his imagination. Perhaps it was…perhaps one day he’d fall asleep, never wake up and be trapped there.

  He’d read about Annwyn when he’d tried to learn everything about fairies he could. Just because he’d stopped talking about them didn’t mean he’d stopped seeing them or that the premonitions had stopped. He’d wanted them to go away. He’d wanted to be normal so badly. But no matter how hard he pretended he was, he wasn’t and he was never going to be. He’d always an outsider. He should be used to it, not craving something else…he didn’t know what, though. Only that the restlessness was getting worse.

  Maybe he needed a long holiday, backpacking around the world. Melody would have a tantrum, just like she did when he’d joined the Army. Melody had wept when he’d left, and it had broken his heart. She liked having him around again. They’d looked out for each other as kids. They were the only real family they had—family who gave a damn anyway—and yet lately Melody had been more driven and desperate for her big break. There was a distance between them he couldn’t bridge.

  She got her cards read once a week in the hope of divining her next step to stardom. He wanted her to slow down, and she wanted to speed up. She was a car crash about to happen and he didn’t know how stop it. He didn’t need any visions to know his sister was going to self-destruct. Yet he didn’t know how to help her either.

  Melody had wanted him to meet Ella to see if he got any impressions. His sister was hoping wearing an Ella Aaron design would give her the good luck that so many other actresses had gained. Maybe if she worked harder and spent less time looking for shortcuts, she’d get there. Hard work was the only way to success that Isaac knew.

  Still, he was here because he couldn’t say no to his little sister. They were still a team, and if turning up at her things made her happy and helped her, he’d do it. One of them should be happy.

  He glanced at Ella again but felt no fear, only a relief that things were about to shift. He should be running from her; instead he wanted to run to her. She was no threat to Melody. It was his soul she would take. He didn’t know why or how she was tangled up in his dream of snow and blood, but he needed to find out.

  Curiosity had gotten him into to trouble more than once and he was certain this time would be no different. He’d already seen the future.

  Chapter Three

  Ella listened to Melody chatter away, but she was aware of Isaac watching even though he was pretending to read. Every so often their gazes would meet and for a moment it was as if the world fell away as desire held them trapped. Then one of them would blink or glance away and the moment would be gone. But the heat of his gaze lingered on her skin and slid into her blood. She’d already let herself be distracted several times and she was sure Melody was going to catch on any moment.

  Part of her didn’t care. She was far more interested in Isaac than Melody. Did Isaac and Melody have the same mother or father? Who was Isaac’s fairy parent? It was always useful to know a changeling’s lineage.

  “I want to look ethereal, like a fairy.” Melody tossed her hair.

  Ella flinched and snapped her attention back to Melody instead of wondering what Isaac would look like without clothes on. “Ethereal?”

  That was a word humans used to describe fairies because they didn’t know the truth. Cunning, cruel and devious were words Ella would use, and the spreading winter in Annwyn would only amplify those traits. But fairies could also be kind, fun-loving gamblers who’d risk everything for one more chance at power. Love, not so much. Fairies never let their hearts do their thinking, at least not at Court. Her heart was as empty as any Court fairy’s. It had to be; caring about mortals only ended in broken hearts.

  Even though Isaac was a changeling he had a human soul and was therefore mortal. A good time didn’t require a long time though. She’d learned that one early while living in the mortal world.

  “You know, delicate, glamorous, extravagant.” Me
lody watched her closely, a little too closely. Her gaze sharpened with every passing heartbeat.

  Ella glanced away to flick through her fabric samples. There was something amiss here. Did Melody know she was talking to a fairy and her brother was a changeling? Did Isaac know and just hide it well? Desire fizzled out and her heart beat a little faster as the adrenaline rush stole the cold that had been creeping through her sluggish blood.

  At least those descriptions were more accurate. Fairies loved parties. She’d just missed the mid-summer celebration in Annwyn. She’d almost returned, determined to make a grand entrance and hold her head high. Then she’d changed her mind. Her mistake, as apparently that celebration had been amazing as well as disastrous for the King, Queen and Hunter. Like many fairies, she was hoping Prince Felan would get his act together. All the fairies she knew in the mortal world had gone home, if they could. Those who were in exile were preparing for death. Unless she planned to join them, which she didn’t, she needed to cross the veil and go home.

  Perhaps once back in Annwyn she could again find favor as a dress designer and maker. In the past, her father’s high status had granted her many favors, but this time she’d be trading on her own merits with the past hanging over her head like a sword waiting to fall. What if she wasn’t good enough for Annwyn and had to return to the mortal world and spend the rest of her long life dressing the rich, if not royal? She swallowed.

  Then she’d better leave the doors open and do this one right.

  She gave Melody a small smile as if warming to the idea. “Wings?”

  Melody laughed. “Don’t be silly. Fairies don’t have wings.”

  No, they didn’t. That had been a human fabrication, along with reducing fairies to tiny, harmless flutterbys.

  “So can you do it?” Melody leaned forward, thumbing through the sketches with fabrics pinned to them.

  “Of course I can.” Ella smiled as if nothing were amiss. She didn’t like people knowing what she was. It was unnerving and hadn’t happened in at least fifty years—and it was usually followed by trouble, as people had some serious misconceptions about fairies.