Gift sent him the memory of the exchange. Are you the stone?
In response, the boy sent him the image of a half-woman, half-cat. She was talking to another woman and gesturing at him, calling him the lump.
Gift understood bits of Changeling magic. He knew that Golems should not have a life of their own. Who are you? he Sent again.
The half-formed boy pointed at Gift.
Gift shook his head. I'm Gift.
The half-formed boy shot him a series of quick images. The images were clear. First there was light. Then there was Gift riding on the light, and then there was a tiny shadow in the corner, learning from the light. Gift understood although he couldn't explain how. Each time he had visited the stone body, he had left a bit of himself behind. The half-formed boy had taken those pieces and created as much of a self as he could.
You're me, but not me, Gift sent. You have other people around you.
The half-formed boy smiled. He sent more images, these wrapped not in light, but in warmth. First he sent one of their mother, the woman Gift watched die. The image was full of a horrible, lonely sadness.
He followed that image with one of their sister, the baby girl Arianna. Then one of his nurse who held him and talked to him and loved him. And then he sent one of the yellow-haired man Gift knew to be his own father. The images held more emotion than the others.
They held love.
Gift reached out and touched the half-formed boy's hand. Suddenly the boy had language. You make me leave? the boy asked. Make me go?
He had been afraid of that all along, afraid that Gift would take over his body permanently. If Gift did that, the boy would no longer exist.
No, Gift Sent. You belong here.
The half formed boy grinned. He could smile and his smile was beautiful. You let me stay? Then he answered his own question. You let me stay.
Gift nodded. I don't let you. It's your place. Will you let me visit? I'm sorry I never asked before. I didn't know you were here.
You can visit, the half-formed boy said. You give me gifts. You me. I you.
In a way, Gift supposed, that was true. The half-formed boy, Sebastian, was living the life Gift had been born to. Gift was living his own life now. He didn't want to live here any more.
Besides, he didn't want to hurt Sebastian.
We're not the same person, Gift Sent. Not any more.
Sebastian frowned. That apparently didn't fit with what he knew.
We're brothers, Gift Sent. The same, but different.
The same, but different, Sebastian said. He looked at their joined hands. You come here any time.
Gift smiled at that. He was glad he would still have his welcome. He liked it here. It was safe.
Thank you, he said. Then he looked around. Sebastian was hidden deep within the body.
You know, Gift Sent, you don't have to stay here all the time. Come with me.
He took Sebastian by the hand and led him to the body's eyes. Together they looked out at a marvelous world, a world of bright colors and lovely melodies and fresh air. Sebastian giggled.
I can stay here?
All the time if you want, Gift Sent.
Sebastian sighed and his relief floated to Gift. Sebastian had been afraid to stay there, afraid that Gift would see him and make him leave.
I like you, Sebastian sent.
Good, Gift sent. Because I like you too.
SEVENTY-THREE
The lilacs were blooming. The sweet sharp scent of the flowers reminded Nicholas of his childhood, afternoons spent in the garden, exploring the deep dark shadows made by the hulking trees. His daughter was exploring the garden this afternoon, although in a way he couldn't quite appreciate. She was in her kitten form, and Solanda, in her cat form, was showing Arianna how to hunt, using bugs as prey.
Nicholas still couldn't get used to his daughter's separate selves. He wondered if he ever could.
He sat on a bench, watching the orange tabby lead the tiny white kitten through the underbrush. Sebastian sat near the wall, running his hand through the grass. The nurse was dozing on a different bench, her head cradled on her arms. A slight breeze disturbed the lilac petals and ruffled her hair. Ever since Rugar's death, the nurse had been extremely protective of Sebastian. Even Solanda had watched over him. She had started using his name, and treating him with a bit more respect.
Nicholas understood the nurse's exhaustion. The events of the last two weeks were catching up with him. The Shaman had come and taken Rugar's body away. She had said nothing when she took it; she hadn't even asked what happened.
Solanda said that meant the Shaman knew, but Nicholas had a different theory. He thought that she might not have wanted to know.
That was how he felt about events in the Tabernacle. The Elders were still meeting and arguing. Nicholas had volunteered to take the Rocaan's position and combine it with his Kingship, and they had rejected that outright. Elder Reece had privately predicted to Nicholas that the fights would continue indefinitely and one day the Elders would all realize what they had done. Already young Titus was making the kinds of decisions a Rocaan made, because he had the Secrets.
He was making holy water when it was needed, and scheduling the Sacraments. Soon he would be doing the rest of the Rocaan's duties.
Of that, Nicholas had no doubt.
His daughter the kitten leaped a foot in the air, chasing a fly. Then she disappeared under a bush. Solanda appeared to sleep at the base of a tree, but when Arianna disappeared, Solanda stood, sighed, and followed.
Solanda had done well for him. He still didn't know how to express his gratitude to her. She had saved the lives of his children. She had guaranteed the survival of his kingship, and she had kept Jewel's legacy alive.
Nicholas sighed. He would never stop missing Jewel or her counsel. She would have known what to do with the ruined ships that fell into the harbor when Rugar died. Some Fey had been in those ships and had died at impact. One Islander had drowned, and several others had been injured, but the event was more frightening than dangerous. Nicholas eventually had the guard pick up the remains of the ships. Monte had said he wanted to study them, and Nicholas would let him.
Maybe they could learn even more about the Fey.
But Nicholas felt a lot more secure now that Rugar was dead. The Shaman had promised Nicholas that his children would grow up in peace. He relied on that promise. She had been right before. He could believe her now.
A giggle drew his attention. He looked around the garden for Arianna, but he didn't see her. She loved being a kitten these days much more than she liked being a baby. As a kitten she had mobility. As a baby, she was subject to the whim of others. But she wasn't the one laughing.
Sebastian was.
Nicholas looked at his son. The boy never entertained himself. But this time he was. He was watching the lilac petals drift in the slight breeze. As they sprinkled around him, he laughed.
For the first time in his life, Nicholas's son looked radiantly happy.
Nicholas didn't want to break the moment. He watched Sebastian and smiled with him, wishing he could share the experience with Jewel. She would have been pleased with her children.
At least he had them.
But they didn't replace Jewel.
He would have to get used to being without her. When she died, he had thought being without her was impossible. But now, watching his children, he knew that he could.
Although he would still miss her each moment of each day.
Sebastian reached up toward a petal, saw Nicholas and waved. Nicholas waved back. His son would never be perfect, but he was still a beautiful boy.
Jewel had given him marvelous, unique children. The least he could do was love them.
He got off his bench and walked over to his son. Sebastian giggled a greeting. Nicholas sat beside him, feeling close to the boy for the first time. The wind came up, and together they played, with the petals falling around them like a soft, pink rain.
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About the Author
Bestseller Kristine Kathryn Rusch has won or been nominated for every major award in the science fiction field. She has won Hugos for editing The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction and for her short fiction.
She has also won the Asimov’s SF Magazine Readers Choice Award five times, as well as the SF Age Readers Choice Award, the Locus Award, and the John W. Campbell Award. Alien Influences, first published in England, was a finalist for the prestigious Arthur C. Clarke Award.
I09 said her Retrieval Artist series featured one of the top ten science fiction detectives ever written.
She also writes mystery, romance, and fantasy novels, occasionally using the pen names Kristine Grayson and Kris Nelscott.
If you liked Changeling, you might try these books by Kristine Kathryn Rusch:
Sacrifice: The First Book of the Fey
Diving Into The Wreck
City of Ruins
Alien Influences
The Disappeared
Extremes
Consequences
Buried Deep
Paloma
The Recovery Man
The Recovery Man’s Bargain
Duplicate Effort
The Possession of Paavo Deshin
The Retrieval Artist
Five Fantastic Tales
Five Short Novels
The War And After: Five Stories of Magic & Revenge
Extended Table of Contents
Theft
One
The Assassination
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
The Coronation
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
The Schism
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
The Thief
Fifty-one
Fifty-two
Fifty-three
Fifty-four
Fifty-five
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Sixty
Sixty-one
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Sixty-seven
Sixty-eight
Sixty-nine
Seventy
The Changeling
Seventy-one
Seventy-two
Seventy-three
Fey 02 - Changeling Page 66
