“I see,” said Shank. “You got a good eye, girlie, a good eye. I ain’t seen this type before. Course I ain’t seen much of anything in a good while. These days, you cain’t find a human that even believes in fairies, much less wants to trade with ’em. Most of the paths into Earth are closed up or lost, and the open ones got Unglers prowlin’ around ’em. Business has nearly dried right up.”
Shank stood up with a groan and put his hands on his hips. He gave Izzy a greasy smile. “Tell you what, girlie. I’ll offer you a pair of real nice slippers—”
“Oh no, you don’t,” interrupted Selden. “She wants boots. You can keep the ratty slippers for yourself.”
Shank scowled at him. “Fine,” he said, shuffling behind his counter. “You want boots, you can have ’em. But my selection ain’t what it used to be.” He climbed up on a rolling ladder attached to the shelves. “You want human-made or fairy-made?”
“Does she look like she wants a pair that’ll wear out in two days?” scoffed Selden. “Fairy-made, of course.”
Shank rolled himself to the boot section, then rolled back toward them with his arms full of boots. He dumped them on the counter in front of them.
Selden began picking through them, turning each one over to examine their soles. “Nope… Not this one either. Too stiff…”
“What about these?” asked Izzy, holding up a pair of black riding boots.
“Nope. They’ve got laces, and laces break,” said Selden, clearly basking in his superior boot knowledge. Finally, he picked up a light-brown pair of men’s boots with buckles on the side and flexed the soles back and forth. “These. They’ll last the longest, and they’re already broken in.”
Izzy looked at them skeptically. “But they’re humongous. They’ll never fit me.”
Shank snapped his fingers and shuffled out through a door behind the counter. “Ain’t a problem,” he called from the back. In a moment, he emerged with his hands in thick mitts, struggling to carry a heavy black pot emitting ribbons of steam. He set the pot down in front of a chair in the center of the room. “All right, girlie. Boots in.”
Izzy took the boots from the counter and started to lower them into the steaming pot.
“What do you think you’re doin’!” cried Shank, rushing over to her. “You gotta put ’em on your feet first, you ninny! How else will you know when they’re the right size?”
Izzy looked down at the rising steam. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“Don’t be a baby,” said Selden. “It doesn’t hurt. Shank shrunk my own boots for me, and see how well they fit?”
“Back when you had somethin’ worth tradin’,” Shank said with a sneer. He took Izzy by the hand and led her to the chair. “Take a seat, girlie. There you go. Now, you just remove them lovely shoes, and we’ll get your new boots all shrunk up perfect.”
“I hope you all know what you’re doing,” said Izzy, removing her high-tops. She pulled on the big boots and swung her feet over the lip of the black pot. Gripping the edge of the chair, she lowered them in slowly.
“All at once!” ordered Shank. “Or else the toes’ll shrink different from the rest of ’em.”
Izzy held her breath and let her feet fall into the pot. Hot liquid seeped in through the top of the boots and surrounded her toes as it bubbled. Amazingly, she didn’t feel her skin scalding.
“That’s it. Now, when you feel ’em start to get snug, pull ’em out.”
After a moment, she felt the squeak of leather around her ankles, and she yanked her feet out of the pot. The boots fit her perfectly.
“What’d I tell ya?” shouted Shank, slapping his leg. “Have a walk around, and make sure they’re right. No refunds once you walk out the door.”
Izzy stood up and strode around the room. The leather was soft and buttery, and the buckles made a satisfying little clinking sound when she stepped. The best part was that the heels gave her at least a half inch of added height.
“There you go, Izzy. Your first decent pair of shoes,” said Selden. He leaned back against the counter casually. “So, Shank. Hear any news from town lately?”
The brownie turned Izzy’s old shoes over in his hands, looking at the soles. “Apple Festival starts in a couple days. They say she is gonna grace everyone with her royal presence.”
“Oh really?” asked Selden. “The queen?”
Shank spat into his cup. “Ha! If she’s the queen, then I’m Father Time.” He looked over his shoulder like someone might be listening at the door. “Should be a real spectacle,” he said more quietly. “She don’t usually leave that castle she built for herself. Likes to send her little pets out to do her nasty work instead.”
Selden stared at the floor, scratching his nose. “Interesting…very interesting.”
Dree coughed. “A-hem.”
Selden snapped his head up. “Well, Shank, it’s been lovely, but we should get moving. Izzy needs clothes as well. I’ll leave you two to sort that out. Maybe you can find some baby elf pajamas small enough to fit her.”
Izzy rolled her eyes at him.
Shank grumbled something under his breath as Selden exited, then turned to Izzy again. “I’ll get ya all set up, girlie,” he said, leading her to the clothes rack. “Got some pixie clothes that might be your size—hey! Get your filthy paws away from those dresses!” He scuttled over to Dree, who had been admiring a white lace dress. He swatted her hand away. “Those are expensive, much too good for you. Just look at your fingernails,” he said nastily. “Get on out of here before you stain everythin’!”
Dree’s cheeks flushed pale pink, and she hid her hands behind her back.
Shank leaned close to Izzy. “Hope she didn’t dirty up anythin’ you’re interested in,” he whispered loudly. “Every time she comes in here, she tries to talk me into a new dress, but that bag o’ bones never has anythin’ worth tradin’. I don’t run a charity operation, you know.”
Izzy watched as Dree stalked to the front of the store with her chin held high. She recognized the look on Dree’s face. It was the look of someone who doesn’t want to give a bully the satisfaction of seeing them cry.
Izzy tried to block out Shank’s groveling while she looked through the clothes for something that would fit her. Before long, she found a light-blue button-down shirt she could wear over her T-shirt, a navy jacket with a hood to replace her striped sweatshirt, and brown trousers to replace the jeans.
She gave Shank her leather belt in exchange for a hat from his collection. It was made from oiled canvas with a wide brim and a leather strap that cinched under her chin. Izzy changed into her new clothes behind a little screen, making sure to tuck the Scarlet Stairstep necklace under her new shirt. When she picked up her old clothes, something fell out of her jeans pocket and thudded onto the floor.
Izzy bent down to pick it up. It was the tiny blue bottle that she’d shoved into her pocket back at Netherbee Hall. She’d forgotten all about it until just now. She read the label again: Root Revive, written in scrawling cursive.
“Oh, Marian, I wish you were with me now!” Izzy whispered. She squeezed the bottle in her palm and tucked it in the inside pocket of her new jacket.
She stepped out from behind the screen, handed Shank her old clothes, and walked in front of the mirror. She almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous she looked, like someone who actually would steal chickens for a living.
Shank stood behind his counter, going through Izzy’s old clothes and scribbling notes in a record book. “Come on up, and I’ll get ya a receipt, unless you got somethin’ else you wanna trade.”
Izzy’s eyes drifted to the white lace dress on the clothes rack. She wondered how long it had been since Dree had a new dress. From the looks of it, her current one would disintegrate to threads before long. But Izzy didn’t think what she had left to trade would be enough for the lace. Then she got an idea.
She set Hen’s backpack on the counter and started feeling around inside.
Hen had packed all sorts of junk: a plastic tiara, some crayons, a kaleidoscope. Finally, Izzy’s fingers landed on a plastic snow globe souvenir from their trip to the beach last summer. She flicked the snow globe so that it rolled out onto the counter toward the brownie.
“Oh dear!” she said, reaching for it. “Can you hand that to me, please?”
Shank picked it up and turned it over curiously. The white flecks of fake snow fluttered down onto a little plaster dolphin, poised in midleap. “That’s an interestin’ little trinket you got there.”
“Please handle that more carefully!” she chided him. “It’s very valuable.”
“Is it?” Shank held it up and read the words on the bottom. “Fort. Walton. Beach. That a human town?”
“Oh yes. One of the greatest cities on Earth.”
Shank looked impressed.
“It’s the capital of the United States,” she continued. “The president lives there.”
“Abraham Lincoln?” whispered the brownie.
“Mmm-hmm,” said Izzy, nodding importantly. “The dolphin is his special symbol. It represents…um…honesty.”
Shank clutched the snow globe in the crook of his arm. “Say, what would you trade for this here?”
Izzy put one hand to her chest. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly let you have it. It’s such an important treasure.”
“Come on now,” said Shank. “Everyone’s got their price.”
She swept her eyes around the room to the rack of clothes. “Well, I guess I might be able to think of something.”
• • •
Izzy marched down the porch steps. She wanted to make the buckles on her new boots clink.
“Say, will you look at that!” said Lug, staring at her new getup. “That can’t be the same girl I met back in Hollowdell, can it? You look like a real fairy farm girl in those clothes!”
“At least you don’t look like a circus clown anymore,” said Selden. “But you took your sweet time in there, didn’t you?”
“Mr. Shank drives a hard bargain,” said Izzy. “Actually, I think he did cheat me. Somehow, he talked me into giving him my whole backpack for this.” She pulled the white dress out from behind her back. “I don’t know why I agreed to it. I can’t stand to wear dresses.”
“You got swindled all right,” said Selden, turning his nose up at the dress. “Now, if the fashion show is over, can we finally get a move on?”
Lug followed after Selden, then turned back to Izzy and nodded at the dress in her hands. “You might give that to Dree if you don’t want it. She loves dresses.”
Dree hadn’t taken her eyes off it. Izzy held it out to her nonchalantly. She thought Dree might reject it if she made it into too big a deal.
Dree held out her glassy hand and took the dress. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Oh, it’s nothing really.”
Dree stared back with her soft, gray eyes. “It’s something to me.” Then she turned on her heel and dashed after the others, a ghostly blur moving through the trees.
14
The Oldest Trick
By midday, even the Changelings were dragging from the heat. They hadn’t seen or heard any signs of the Unglers during their whole trip, so Selden eased up on the grueling pace and agreed they could take turns dipping in the creek. The stony stream they’d been following had grown wider and deeper, until it was more like a river. They now had to climb down a steep bank to reach the swift-moving water.
Izzy took the last turn. She stood barefoot in the cool shallows, tossing sticks out into the current and thinking about her sister.
The last time she and Hen had gone swimming, Hen had done a cannonball and soaked Izzy’s journal. Izzy had been so mad she couldn’t even speak. But that night, Hen made Izzy a new one out of stapled sheets of construction paper and slipped it under her pillow. That’s how it always was—Hen bungled things, and Izzy eventually forgave her. Not this time. Now Izzy was the one who’d made a mess of everything, and Hen was nowhere to apologize to.
A voice from above jolted her out of her thoughts. “Come on, Izzy! You’re slower than slithermold!” Dree, wearing the new lace dress, stood above on the rocky bank. She grinned down at Izzy playfully. “Last one to catch up to Lug has to smell his pits!”
“No fair! You can fly!” shouted Izzy, wading out of the water. She put on her socks and boots and then climbed up the steep bank to follow Dree. She ran after her for a few steps, then remembered something. “Just a second!” she called out, turning around. “I forgot my necklace!”
Izzy climbed back down to the creek where she had left her Scarlet Stairstep hanging. As she reached for it, she saw motion in the corner of her eye. She turned around and stifled a scream.
She stood two steps away from an exact replica of herself. Not a mirror. A flesh and blood, real-life Izzy.
She blinked her eyes. She opened her mouth to call out for Dree, but the replica put one finger to its lips. It smiled at her.
Izzy was mesmerized. “What—what are you?”
The replica said nothing. Izzy’s own hazel eyes stared back at her from beneath her own dark eyebrows. Her clone hooked its thumbs together and fluttered its fingers in the air.
“Bird? Are you trying to say something about a bird?” asked Izzy.
It smiled and nodded, then pointed to the top of its head.
“Crown? Head? Brain?”
Another nod. The clone pointed at Izzy and then did all the hand signs together.
Izzy scrunched up her eyebrows, trying to understand. “Bird…brain…me. Me, bird, brain?”
Her double began to snicker. Spit flew out of its mouth as it folded over in hysterics, clutching at its side. “Your face! You should see your face!” it shrieked between fits of laughter.
Izzy’s cheeks burned. She knew that voice. She shoved her double in the shoulder and stomped past it. Only it didn’t look like her anymore. It had Changed back into what it really was.
Selden.
“I can’t believe you actually fell for that!” he said, laughing as he climbed up the bank after her. “Don’t you know that’s the oldest Changeling prank there is?”
Izzy marched on, fuming.
“Oof, I think I sprained something squeezing myself down into your wormy little Likeness,” he said, rubbing his shoulder.
Izzy spun around and kicked her boot at his shin.
He dodged it easily. “Hey, what’s that all about?”
“I am sick of you making fun of me! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Hey, hey, come on,” said Selden. “You’ve got to admit that was hilarious. You humans are too serious!”
Izzy turned away and started walking. “Oh, I know. According to you, we’re too serious, too slow, too spoiled, too dumb—”
“Yes, you’re finally catching on!”
“If we’re so awful, then why go to Earth and switch places with one of us?”
Selden jogged along beside her. “When you’re a Changeling, the Exchange is what you do. It’s been going on for a thousand years. More, maybe. Ever since our worlds split off from each other.”
Izzy started to ask him what he meant but stopped herself. She was not about to give him the satisfaction of teaching her something. In fact, she was determined to act like she wasn’t interested in him at all.
Mischief flickered in Selden’s eyes. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. In all those storybooks of yours, you never read about our worlds separating?”
Izzy clenched her fists and kept walking.
“I could tell you all about it,” he said in a singsong voice. “If you ask nicely.”
“Go jump in a bog,” she grumbled. But she only
made it a few more steps before her curiosity overcame her pride. Izzy had read every fairy tale she could get her hands on, but she’d never heard of Faerie and Earth separating. She stopped and folded her arms. “Fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Will you please tell me?”
Selden waved his hand. “Well, the truth is, I don’t really know much about the whole thing…”
“Oh, you are so annoying!” she shouted, running away from him.
He laughed and caught up to her. “All right, all right! I do know that fairies and humans used to live together in the same world. But they never could get along, so one day, they decided to split up. They were never meant to be completely separated though. Everyone assumed there would always be fairies and humans going back and forth between the two worlds.”
He continued, walking backward, with his hands in his pockets. “But then humans stopped coming here. Then they stopped believing in Faerie at all. And that’s when Good Peter decided that every now and then, some humans would get swapped for fairies and vice versa. That’s where we come in.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you important?”
“Yes, actually, we are. These days, the Exchange is the only thing keeping our worlds connected.”
She raised an eyebrow. “If you’re so high and mighty, then why don’t you live in some grand castle or something? Instead of hiding out like a bunch of scared criminals?”
Selden’s grin disappeared. He winced, like he’d been stung. “You really want to know? It’s because—” He paused and looked past Izzy, into the trees.
“Well? Because why?”
“Shhh!” Selden stood frozen, one finger to his lips.
A high-pitched squeal echoed in the distance.
Dree and Lug came crashing back through the brush, their faces tense with fear.
“Coming…through the trees!” said Dree, panting. “Unglers!”
15
The Unglers
Selden looked over Dree’s shoulder. “How many?”
The Changelings Series, Book 1 Page 8
