Izzy waited for the goose bumps to stop running up the backs of her arms. She stood on a narrow dirt path. There was no sign of Marian. To the right, the path wound through the woods and out of sight. To the left, it curled around a magnolia tree with white blossoms the size of soup bowls. Izzy walked until she could see around the magnolia’s trunk. The path ran straight toward a pair of wooden doors set in a high stone wall. One of the doors stood slightly ajar.
Izzy approached the wall slowly. This had to be a dream. Maybe she had fallen and hit her head again. She tapped her fingers against her cheeks to see if that would wake her up. Nothing happened, and now she stood just inches from the great wooden doors. Rough-cut carvings danced across the shiny wood. Izzy traced a finger over the image of a farmer and a king, their hands clasped in greeting. A border of strange animals framed the two figures. Some of the animals had children’s faces. They grinned at Izzy impishly, like they might nibble her fingers. She pushed on one of the doors, and it groaned open to reveal an overgrown courtyard, and beyond that, a large, gray house.
“Marian?” Izzy whispered. She stepped through the doorway into the courtyard. “Hello?”
The entire place was silent. Izzy stepped over the weeds poking through the pavers. Her eyes traveled up to the house. Splotches of moss and lichen covered the walls. It looked like no one had lived there in a very long time. Izzy walked up the steps to the front door. It stood open just an inch. She reached out to pull the handle. A hand shot out through the open crack, grabbed her arm, and wrenched her inside.
Izzy’s scream rang off the walls of a dark room. She felt callused fingers clamp down over her mouth.
“Hush, child! Stop that wailing, or I’ll stuff a kerchief in your mouth!”
Izzy’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw Marian’s wrinkled face glowering down at her.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Marian whispered. She released her grip on Izzy. “How’d you find this place? I was very careful the whole way here!”
“I—I followed you through the woods,” said Izzy.
Marian raised her eyebrows. “Humph, you’d have to be quieter than a mouse to follow me.”
Izzy swung her gaze from the old woman to the rest of the house. They stood in a large entry hall in front of a long staircase. The stair railing lay broken on the steps. Dried leaves covered the dusty floor, and gauzy, white cobwebs settled into every corner.
Marian grabbed Izzy by the elbow and started to pull her back toward the front door. “If you came down that passage, then you can go right back up it. You’re going straight home, you hear?”
Izzy yanked her arm away. “No, I’m not going back until you tell me what’s going on! Where’s Hen? What is this place?”
“This is Netherbee Hall,” said Marian. “Or it was anyway.”
“And Hen is here?”
“Does it look like anyone’s here to you?”
“Well, where is she then? You said you were going to find her.”
“He must have taken her straight to the city,” said Marian, more to herself than to Izzy. “It’ll take him two days to get there. I wonder if he still rides that horse of his…”
Izzy was tired of Marian’s secrets. “You know something you’re not telling me! How do I know you didn’t kidnap Hen in the first place?”
“Child, you know as well as me that I didn’t take your sister,” the old woman snapped. “I came into Faerie to find her.”
“Faerie?” asked Izzy. “You mean Faerie? Like in the books?”
“Yes. And no, not like in the books. Not your books, at any rate.”
“No… That’s not possible…”
Izzy cast her eyes around the room, looking for something to prove to her she wasn’t standing in a magical world.
Marian stared down at the floor, cracking her knuckles. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet Izzy’s. “What did the folks back in Everton tell you about me?”
“The cashier at the grocery store said you were a witch.”
“Pah, don’t I wish. Only humans are witches.”
Izzy gulped and took a step back. “Wait—what do you mean?”
Marian took off her hat and brushed her hair behind her ears.
Izzy gasped. They were pointed.
8
A Child for a Changeling
Izzy stared at Marian. The old woman’s ears weren’t just a little pointy. The tops swept up into tall peaks that nearly extended past her head.
“What are you?”
Marian held her gaze. “Your grandmother once told me you liked to read fairy tales. Then you must know that when the fairies take a human child, they always leave someone in its place.”
Izzy knew exactly what Marian was talking about. One of her favorite stories from Faerie and Folktales of Yesteryear was an Irish tale. In it, the parents looked into their baby’s crib only to find it wasn’t their baby at all but a shape-shifter that had taken its place.
“A Changeling,” Izzy whispered.
She watched in amazement as the old woman’s ears shrank smaller and smaller. The long, pointed tips softened and rounded until they looked just like a pair of normal, human ears.
“Just about the only part of me that’ll still Change,” said Marian, plopping the hat back on her head. “Been stuck in this form too long.”
Izzy tapped her cheeks again, harder this time. She’d given up thinking she was dreaming, but she couldn’t quite make herself believe this was all real either. A breeze fluttered in through one of the broken windows. Izzy glanced at the trees outside.
Trees at the bottom of a hole in the ground.
Izzy gulped. “Marian, what is going on? And what does any of this have to do with my sister?”
The old woman turned around and walked to the far end of the entry hall. She stopped at the foot of a dark painting on the wall. The colors had begun to turn black, but Izzy could still make out the figures. It was the same farmer and king she had seen carved into the wooden doors outside. The round-eared farmer held a scythe in one hand. The king’s crown rested on his long, pointed ears. A dozen animals with children’s faces danced in a circle around their feet.
Marian gazed up at the portrait with her fingers clasped behind her back. “The last time I was here was sixty years ago. I hardly recognize this place; it was so different then. Full of fairies coming and going between your world and ours. A few humans too, though trade was already starting to slow down in my time. Now, it looks like it’s dried up altogether.”
The old woman turned around and smiled like she was lost in a daydream. “I stood in this very spot, waiting for the Piper to take me up to Earth. I was so nervous! Scared to death I wouldn’t be able to hold my form or that I wouldn’t do a good job of fitting in.” Marian laughed, and then her smile faded. “Guess I had a reason to be nervous. I never did fit in.
“I wouldn’t have lasted if it hadn’t been for your grandmother,” she continued. “Jean and I grew up together. She was my only friend. Even when I told her I was a fairy, she didn’t care one bit.” Marian sighed sadly. “So now you understand why I knew about the music you heard in the woods. It’s the same song the Piper played all those years ago when he took me to Earth for the Exchange.”
“Exchange? You mean the Piper steals people’s children without them knowing,” said Izzy. “That’s horrible.”
The old woman exhaled out the side of her mouth. “It’s complicated. You’re a human. You wouldn’t understand.”
“So you switched places with the real Marian Malloy?” asked Izzy. “What happened to her?”
“Human children are adopted by fairy families. She’s probably living her life somewhere out there, with a whole mess of part-fairy grandchildren hanging around her skirts.”
The full weight of what Marian was saying finally hit Izzy. Her th
roat clenched tighter. “But if the Piper took my sister, that means some fairy family is going to adopt her too. But she already has a family. She has us!”
Marian took Izzy’s hands in hers. “I tried so hard to prevent this. Everton’s a border town between our worlds. Even now, lots of fairy roads still run through it. That makes it an easy target for the Exchange. I taught Jean every precaution to keep her children from being taken. The bells, the stone towers—they’re all signals to the Piper, to keep him away. It worked for your father, but when you were born, I told Jean never to let you come back to her house. You were so little, and there was something different about you. The Piper looks for the different ones. You see, your grandmother didn’t push you away because she didn’t love you. She wanted to keep you safe.”
“And what about Hen?” asked Izzy, her voice trembling. “Is she safe? When the Piper takes a child, does he ever let them go?”
Marian frowned. “I don’t know. But I’m going to do all I can to make him.” A spark of hope glinted in her eye. “He didn’t leave your family with anyone in Exchange, and that’s against the rules. A Child for a Changeling, that’s the old promise. If I can catch up to him, I think I can argue a good case for returning her.”
“Where do you think he took her?”
“If she’s not here, there’s only one other place she can be.” Marian pointed toward the front door. “That path out there leads straight through the Edgewood, to Avhalon—”
“Avalon! Like the island from the story of King Arthur?”
“Yes and no. King Arthur was just a made-up character, but Avhalon is real. And it isn’t an island. It’s a city. The Piper took your sister there. I’m sure of it.” Marian cupped Izzy’s chin in her rough hand. “You must trust me, child. I won’t rest till she’s back safe.”
Izzy bit back her tears. The day had turned from reality to dream to nightmare almost too fast for her to bear. But Marian’s steely determination gave her hope. Izzy squeezed her hand. “I trust you.”
Another breeze blew in through the windows, sweeping the brittle leaves across the floor.
“Come on,” said Marian. She put her hand on Izzy’s back and directed her to the front doors. “We need to get you home, and I need to be on my way—”
They stopped and stared at the wooden doors. Both were covered in a thick, white mat of cobwebs.
“They weren’t like that before, were they?” asked Izzy, taking a step back.
She looked down at her feet. Though she couldn’t see any spiders, the webs spread steadily across the floor toward them, reaching out wispy tentacles.
Izzy kicked at the cobwebs. Several tendrils whipped around her ankle and pulled it forward, knocking her off balance. The old woman caught her arm. She drew a dirty knife from its case on her belt and sliced through the webs. They dissolved like smoke, only to be replaced by a dozen more that lurched hungrily for Izzy’s legs. She jerked her foot away from them and staggered back.
Marian pulled her away from the doors. “Not this way! We’ll find another way out!”
They turned to head down the hall but stopped again. The cobwebs had already crawled up the walls and knitted themselves into a pulsating curtain of lace that completely blocked the hallway.
“Up the stairs!” cried Marian, dragging Izzy by the arm.
They bolted up the crumbling steps, tripping over broken pieces of stone. Izzy looked over her shoulder. The entire floor where they had stood was now a solid sheet of white. The cobwebs writhed up the walls toward them. The portrait of the farmer and king disappeared under a thick film of gauze. At the top of the stairs, they turned to the left and ran down another long hall. They ducked into a large room to their right. Marian leaned against the heavy door, slamming it shut.
Izzy looked around the empty room. How long would the door hold back the cobwebs? There was no other way out that she could see.
Marian knelt down and opened her satchel. “I must have brought something that can ward them off!” She started pulling out glass jars and bottles and hurriedly read the labels. “Thistle Thwart, no… Prune Prepare…no, that won’t work either!”
Izzy bent down and picked through the jars, but she didn’t know what Marian was looking for. From the labels, they all seemed to be meant for the garden.
“What about this?” she asked, holding up a small, cloudy blue bottle. “It says Root Revive.”
“No, no!” said Marian. “That’s just for dead trees.”
“Marian!” Izzy jumped up and backed away from the door. “Get up! Look!”
Cobwebs probed through the crack. Izzy shoved the bottle into her pocket. She took off the backpack and whacked at them until they retreated. She stood staring at the door, her chest heaving. A single web licked at the crack. In an instant, a hundred others joined it.
“To the window!” ordered Marian, abandoning her satchel.
They fled across the stone floor to the far side of the room. The center windowpane had been smashed long ago, and Marian kicked at the broken glass until she cleared it away from the windowsill.
“Give me your hands,” she told Izzy. “I’ll lower you down, and you wait for me at the bottom.”
Izzy hung her legs over the window ledge. Behind Marian, the cobwebs completely covered the door and one of the walls. They spilled toward them across the floor.
“Go on. I’ll jump down after you.” Marian took both of Izzy’s hands and lowered her down, leaning far over the edge of the windowsill.
Izzy placed her feet on the wall of the building to steady herself. At the count of three, Marian let go of her hands, and she fell hard onto the ground. She leapt up to her feet and waited for Marian to climb out after her.
“Oh, please hurry!” Izzy shouted.
Marian shook her head. “It’s too far for me to jump.”
“What? No! I can’t go without you!”
“Don’t worry about me,” Marian shouted. “Just go on!”
The window to the right of Marian filmed over with cobwebs as if it were frosted with snow. The old woman looked over her shoulder and then ran to another window at her left.
“Get out of here, child!” she shouted, her voice muffled by the glass. “Go on!”
With a crack, the front doors of the house burst open, and an enormous mass of cobwebs cascaded out onto the courtyard. Izzy bolted across the pavers to the doors in the wall and pushed them open.
Marian beat at the window until she knocked a hole in the brittle glass. “The path!” she called through the broken pane. “Don’t leave that path, whatever you do!”
Marian turned her back to the window and slid down out of Izzy’s sight. The window clouded over with white. She was gone.
Thick waves of cobwebs rolled out over the courtyard toward Izzy. Within seconds, she would be submerged beneath them. She ran through the doors, the white strands licking at her heels. Her foot caught the doorframe, sending her flying onto her stomach. She rolled over to see the mass of cobwebs undulating toward her. Izzy scrambled to her feet and tore off running down the path, not daring to look back.
9
The Rock That Wasn’t
Izzy kept running even though her lungs begged her to slow down. The backpack bounced against her spine, jangling the plastic toys inside. The icy touch of the cobwebs still lingered on her skin. She felt sure that, at any moment, a white tidal wave would come crashing down the path behind her and swallow her up.
Izzy didn’t slow down until she came to a dead tree that had fallen across a bend in the path. She stood beside the log, hands on her knees, wheezing for air. She looked back at the way she just came. No cobwebs. The forest was still except for the light rustle of leaves overhead. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to decide what to do.
The hole in the tree trunk that led back to her home—back to her world—was
long gone. She’d sprinted past it during her escape. Finding it again meant going back to Netherbee Hall, back to the cobwebs. Even if she could make it, what would she do when she got back home? What would she tell her parents? That their youngest daughter was kidnapped by a fairy? That her rescuer now lay cocooned in a shroud of cobwebs? They’d never believe it. Izzy could hardly believe it herself.
She shuddered and closed her eyes. How could this be happening? Faerie was real. Changelings were real. The stories she’d read and loved were true. Things should have been wonderful. Instead, this was the worst thing that had ever happened.
Izzy looked up into the forest canopy. She couldn’t tell the sun’s position, but she guessed it must be late afternoon. She definitely did not want to spend the night in these woods. She placed her hands on the fallen tree and looked down the path snaking ahead of her. Marian said it led straight to Avhalon, where the Piper would take Hen to be adopted. Izzy tugged down on the backpack straps. She had to find the Piper and tell him this was all a huge mistake. Hen already had a family. Surely, he would understand and let her go.
Izzy planted a foot on top of the log. She was just about to climb over it when she heard a noise. It sounded like someone crying.
Izzy scanned the trees, listening. She heard it again—a low whimper. Fifty feet ahead of her, a large, mossy boulder sat in the center of the path. The crying seemed to be coming from that direction. She stared at the boulder, ready to run if she had to.
The rock moved.
Izzy ducked to the ground, her heart racing. Slowly, she rose up on her knees until she could just see over the top of the log. The boulder sighed. It began to heave up and down, making pitiful sobbing sounds.
Izzy blinked her eyes over and over. The boulder wasn’t a boulder at all but some sort of creature who sat hunched over on the path with its back to her. Its shabby tunic and trousers were so pilled and nubby that she’d mistaken them for moss. The creature reached up its large hands to its face as if it were wiping away tears, revealing arms covered in dark-brown hair.
The Changelings Series, Book 1 Page 4
