The Changeling's Fortune (Winter's Blight Book 1)

by K. C. Lannon

  A flash of red…

  Iain opened his eyes. “I saw James’s friend, the ginger, Deirdre, during the parade. She was walking toward the city entrance. James must have gone to meet her.”

  General Callaghan’s face visibly drained of color. “That makes finding him quickly all the more crucial.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Iain, how well do you know James’s friend?”

  “Not well at all. There isn’t much to know.” Frowning, Iain asked, “Why?”

  General Callaghan held out his hands as one might do to quiet a frightened animal. “We have caught many Fae involved in the attack but not whomever orchestrated it. Trust me when I say that I am as surprised as you are that Deirdre was involved. There are many witnesses that put her at the scene.”

  Iain let out a nervous laugh. “She’s not a faery. She’s…” He shook his head. “She’s just not capable of doing something like that. She’s… harmless.”

  He didn’t know why he thought that. He had no reason to think anything about her at all. All he knew about her was that she was an orphan, that she had little sense but enough sense to befriend his brother.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know her well at all?” His father glared at him. “Now you’re defending her? I find that troubling. Your judgment is often… flawed.”

  “I’m not defending anything. It’s just that she seems…” He trailed off as his father stared at him like he was a rare oddity.

  She seems like a nice kid, Iain thought instantly, instinctually. A nice kid that’s maybe a little lost… maybe a little strange, but good, like James… like—

  He flinched, unable to let himself finish the thought, feeling as though he had given his doubt power by thinking it.

  Don’t be stupid! Iain corrected himself harshly. You don’t even know her. You know nothing about her. And she went to Ferriers Town… and the way the banshee was talking, if what she said was even true… maybe she is a faery!

  “I see,” General Callaghan said. “It’s because of how human she appears. But she’s not human. There’s no need to feel compassion for her. She certainly feels no compassion for any of us. She doesn’t feel anything.”

  Iain nodded once uncertainly. He did not want to admit to any doubt, though he felt quite a lot of it. He had to start thinking like a soldier, not like himself.

  “The most powerful faeries are the most human in appearance but also the most monstrous. I have never seen a more human-looking faery in all my years of service. Their lot lies and tricks and manipulates as easily as breathing. It’s no wonder she had you and James fooled.”

  “If she’s with James—” Iain couldn’t let himself finish his thought.

  “Deirdre was seen leaving the city limits. James must be with her,” General Callaghan said. “I do not think she will hurt him yet. I believe she is using him as leverage, a ransom, if you will, to achieve whatever ends she has in mind. James might not even be aware he’s being used.”

  Iain’s stomach churned.

  “I’m sending a troop after them as soon as possible,” General Callaghan assured him. “We will capture the faery alive, and she will face justice here in the city.”

  “We don’t have time. I have to go after them. I have to find James.”

  “I will send troops after him as soon as possible. Until then—”

  “No,” Iain said firmly, taking a step toward his father. “You’re not sending some grunts after him. It needs to be me. He’s skittish at best around strangers. If you send some faceless soldiers after him, he’ll think he’s in trouble, and he’ll run.” Iain added, “Besides, if you just send me, maybe the faery won’t suspect I know. Less chance for major casualties with just one soldier, yeah?”

  “I need you here, at my side. Boyd will be outside the city, and I need someone I can trust.” General Callaghan’s expression flickered from cold to icy. “After what happened today, I would expect your loyalties to be to your country first and foremost. Your loyalty to me.”

  Iain asked, “What happened today anyway? What was that smoke?”

  “It’s not what happened that matters, it’s what’s been happening—what’s happening now,” General Callaghan said gravely. “It’s something I hoped you’d never have to witness in your lifetime: warfare.”

  “Warfare?”

  “That smoke was part of an attack on our government, on our country, on humanity. It was Fae magic, and it was a declaration of war. The Winter Court is done waiting on humanity to build them a weapon, and they’re punishing us for it.” General Callaghan ran a hand over his face wearily. “King Eadred is dead.”

  Iain inhaled sharply. “Someone ran past me…” He thought about the figure that had rushed by him and about the smoke again, how constricting it was.

  “There were several perpetrators. They snuck by nearly everyone undetected. No one could have stopped them without suffering the same fate.”

  Iain barely had time to think about whether or not he could have possibly prevented the attack if he’d only thought faster, moved quicker, before General Callaghan continued.

  “The public does not know it yet, but Edgar Windsor is in no condition to take over as king after this tragedy, and without a king, the government is inefficient. It will fall to shambles without intervention.” When Iain looked confused, his father clarified, “I am going to propose martial law, temporarily. The military will be in complete control of England.”

  The thought of the military seizing control chilled Iain, though his father’s tone of voice suggested the idea was pleasing to him.

  “It may not seem like it now, but I believe that this, in the grand scheme of things, will result in what is best for our country. You may rest easy, knowing that I will be in command along with General Windsor, once he is up to the task. There will never be another Fae attack on humankind as long as I am in charge.”

  Iain pushed everything from his mind and focused solely on James. He could worry about everything else later, once James was back home. “There are hundreds of other Iron Wardens who could do my job better than I could.”

  “My purpose for you here is far more important than going after your brother.” General Callaghan nailed him with a look. “I thought you wanted to help this city. Surely you don’t think you’ll be doing that by continuing to break up drunken fights or by patrolling for citizens breaking curfew?”

  Iain glanced at the ground.

  “The position I have for you here, by my side, is greater than anything you could conceive,” General Callaghan continued. “It’s the beginning of change in this city.”

  “I’m going after my brother.” Iain stood his ground, every thread of apprehension gone from his body. “Nothing is more important to me than that right now. The city will still be here when I get back.”

  The general was quiet for a long minute, eyes boring into Iain, as if waiting for him to falter. But Iain stood his ground, hands clenched tightly but his expression calm.

  “Fine,” his father finally said, his voice devoid of emotion. “You’ll go. But I will be sending someone along with you to make sure you follow orders. I’ll give you a personal radio, and you’ll communicate only with me.”

  “I understand.”

  After officially accepting his mission and learning a few more details, Iain left his father and began his trek back home. The trains and the Underground had been shut down, along with taxi services, so he went on foot. A bag containing everything he could need for up to a two-day journey would be delivered to the house. He nearly sprinted the whole way there, barely noticing the burning in his limbs and lungs.

  Despite his certainty that James was gone, Iain looked through each room regardless. He checked their room last. While standing in their room, amidst the mess of James’s belongings that were scattered on the floor as usual, he remembered James’s backpack from that morning and everything that he’d packed inside.

  Whether or not some treasono
us faery had coerced James with magic or manipulated him with her words, Iain had to admit to himself that it was not beyond the realm of possibility that James had decided to leave on his own, perhaps out of spite or even to look for their mother like he had always planned. He hadn’t been content for a while, and their conflict last night had not helped things. All he knew for certain was that James was in danger, and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The outskirts of the city had some housing units and supply depots, most of them looking deserted. James insisted they walk at a casual pace, as if they were headed to one of those buildings, just in case someone saw them. That proved to be unnecessary as there was no one there; even the buildings that were clearly still lived in were empty. One small market had its door shut, with a large sign on front reading: On Holiday for Memorial. Deirdre felt like they were the only people in the world who weren’t inside the city, and for some reason the thought made her giggle.

  They passed the last row of small wooden huts, and the gravel road eroded to dirt. There was one final wall to pass—a wooden fence about twice as high as a tall man, supported with thick iron posts. Deirdre craned her neck up and tried to see how far the fence went; it seemed to wrap a large circumference around the city, heading in a wide arc both ways toward the coast. She supposed it must reach straight to the shore on both sides of the city.

  “Wow,” James breathed.

  They stepped through the wide-open iron-and-wood gate, standing at the top of a sharp, sloping incline. Beneath them was a vast carpet of countryside, marked with squares of light September wheat and green meadows, hedged off by lines of dark green and brown trees, some old and tall, some young and starting to take over parts of the fields. The lands were sloped gently, like a quilt that was laid slightly unevenly. A fresh, cool wind swept across it, bringing to Deirdre scents of plants, sunshine, rain, and early autumn.

  Laughing, she swung her arms shamelessly as she started to skip down the dirt path. Every worry or uncertainty was forgotten. There was no way the soldiers would bother chasing her all the way out here.

  How could I have ever dreamed of living in that horrible city?

  James followed her, looking back over his shoulder again and then looking around him, his gaze often darting up and down, taking in all the details, even as he stumbled and skidded down the slope. The clouds cleared slightly, letting through sunlight—faintly warm, not at all hot or thick, just enough to put some feeling in their bones.

  Deirdre jumped up on a stone off the path, stretching, soaking in the sunshine. She was still a bit tired and hungry from her sleepless night and practically no dinner or breakfast, but the sunlight revived her.

  “Wow,” James said one more time, pausing to turn and look at the panoramic view.

  She laughed at him shamelessly. “Is this the first time you’ve been out of that city?”

  He replied in slightly indignant tones, “Well, no, but… it’ll be the longest.”

  Humming again loudly, she jumped off the stone and then asked, “So which way to the orphanage?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  She giggled. “I wasn’t really paying attention on the drive over here… plus the grocer said there were a lot of different ways to get there and back.”

  “Well, for a little while we’ll stay on the road, then we’ll go off and travel cross-country. Last night, I mapped out a really direct path, even faster than staying by the roads.” He glanced behind them toward the city; it was lost from sight over the incline and behind the fence at the top.

  Goodbye and good riddance. Deirdre stuck her tongue out at the city, turning and beginning to trot down the path.

  They stayed on the road for about an hour. While they passed several farms, they never saw anyone; all the farmhouses were near the center of their lands rather than on the outskirts. The only sign of human life they came across were wire and wood fences (to keep livestock in and thieves out), carefully trimmed fields, and the occasional rubbish left by those who had driven past.

  James was quick to spot and identify every bird and animal, large and small, wild and tame, that they came across. Deirdre tested his knowledge of wildflowers by asking the names of those they passed, from the common corn cockle to the daisy. He knew which ones were edible, but otherwise he wasn’t quite as enthused about them.

  As soon as they came to an unfenced field, clearly unowned, they turned off the road and headed James’s route northeast. The fields they crossed were only recently abandoned, overgrown by one summer’s lack of maintenance. The fields were dotted with small streams that could be easily crossed by stepping on a stone or two in their middle; Deirdre sprinted toward and leaped over each one. James did not imitate her but took his time to take the safest way across.

  As he tried to figure out which wide, flat river rocks were the most stable to get across a broad but shallow stream, Deirdre took the chance to inspect the small field and found an old rusted cowbell. She carried it with them until they came across an ancient, low stone wall, separating the farmland from a stretch of woods. She placed the cowbell on the nicest spot she could find, then hurdled the wall. James climbed over it behind her, somehow getting his scarf stuck between two stones on the way.

  “Just yank it out!” she advised.

  In reply, he just gave her an affronted look and carefully worked the scarf free, then followed her under the shade of the trees.

  It was close to midafternoon now, and James pulled a plastic-wrapped something out of his jacket pocket (after scrubbing his hands clean with some kind of cleansing wipe he kept a package of in his backpack).

  “What’s that?” Deirdre asked.

  “A biscuit,” he replied, unwrapping the package and taking a bite. “Do you want one? We won’t reach the orphanage until tomorrow morning, so…”

  “Sure, but just one.”

  For a while they munched in silence; he went for another biscuit after finishing the first, and Deirdre put her hand on his arm. “Maybe keep those for supper? If you eat too much and walk, you’ll get cramps. Plus it’ll just make you thirstier.”

  Though he agreed, she could tell he was hardly thrilled. As they crossed into the next spread of empty fields, he began to drag his feet. Deirdre doubted it was on purpose and so did not comment and slackened her pace some.

  After about ten minutes of going at a slower speed, James spoke up, asking, “So, since we’re looking for your family… do you know anything about them at all?”

  Deirdre shook her head. “Nope. I was left at the orphanage door with just my name; no one saw who dropped me off. It’s the same for quite a few of the girls. Though most of them lost their parents to long-term radiation and things like that, from the bombing and all that.”

  “So why are we going to the orphanage again?” His voice nearly hit the pitch of a whine.

  She gave him a warning look before replying, “We’re going there to meet Mother Superior.”

  “But why? I know a lot about magic and faeries…”

  Deirdre considered telling him about the broken twig, teacup, and tires, but again thought better of it. “She’s from Iceland; they have a different relationship with faeries there than we do.”

  “Are there a lot of them there?”

  “Not really… She said other countries don’t have as many faeries as England and Scotland do, because the two Courts are here. All the faeries in those other countries are weaker too. But anyway, they’ve always got along well with them in Iceland. I think she’ll know a lot about them that we should know before we head toward the Summer Court. Maybe she’ll tell us all we need to know about faeries, and we won’t even have to go to the Court!”

  James frowned. “What about your parents?”

  “Well, maybe she’ll know something more about them she didn’t tell me.”

  “Well, you’re not English. They could have been Irish Travellers or from some small Scottish clan. Or maybe faery cultists, o
r maybe they were related to farmers. All those people were deported from Neo-London before you or I were born. The Roma and Welsh were also driven out too,” he added as an apparent afterthought.

  “Roma?” she asked, looking back at him.

  “Uh, Gypsies.”

  “Oooh, right. We had some of those in the town near us; they came and went.” She frowned. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t see any in the city. That explains it.”

  “Right, but I was thinking… since that faery said to look for the faery Court, maybe you’re related to the faery cultists.”

  She made a face. Cultists? That sounds awful! But maybe that’d explain what happened, with the twig and cup and all… why I felt so strange the same time each of those things happened… maybe it is some sort of family curse! Ugh, that’d be horrible! Why would my parents do something like that?

  As she grew angrier, she realized that her blood was thundering in her ears again. Her hands were growing warm, and she was suddenly aware of each pulsation within her veins.

  Shuddering, trying to shake off the feeling, she snapped at James, “No, that’s not it! That doesn’t sound right.” James looked as though he wished to argue the point further, so she changed the subject quickly, asking, “And what about your family? Do you have family outside the city?”

  “I… I’m not sure.” He shrugged.

  She thought of Iain and how impolite and rough he was, then remembered his connection to Elaine. Then she recalled how James had been looking behind them anxiously up until they went off-road.

  “James… Are you running away from home?”

  “No! I… just always wanted to go out and explore, you know, see everything for myself.” He gestured at the trees, tall grass, and sky all around them. “This might be the only chance I’ve got.”

  “So you’re just going out here to explore? Can’t you do that when you’re an adult?”