“How did your walk go?”
Fae turned from where she was undoing the ombre pastel wrap she had their six-month-old daughter in, holding the babe close to her chest, to look at her husband standing in their kitchen. He looked like something out of a cheesy romance cover with his thick coffee-colored hair and red flannel shirt that almost matched her own.
“I think it went rather well.” Fae answered, continuing to unwrap, “We scared some squirrels and saw this mushroom circle that Lizzie got a kick out of.” She kissed Lizzie on the head, causing the infant to kick and smile.
“Mushroom Circle?” Roul asked, stepping up to the pair and taking Lizzie.
“Yeah, they’re caused by sporing mushrooms, I think.” Fae told him, “This one,” She pointed to Lizzie, “Was pointing and laughing like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen.”
Roul looked over their daughter appraisingly. “Looks like we have another granola girl nature geek.” Then he punctuated the statement with a raspberry to Lizzie’s stomach, causing her to burst out with happy laughter.
“I don’t even like granola!” Fae protested with a happy shriek.
#
“Raoul, was this window open earlier?”
It had been hours since Fae and Lizzie had returned from their walk. The young mother had just come to check on her to find the window open, the bottom half at least, pastel yellow and pink curtains pillowing in the breeze. Aside from the obvious concerns of leaving a window open in a room with a lone infant, Fae didn’t remember it being open when they put Lizzie to bed.
“No,” Raoul called from the other room, “I mean, I don’t think so.”
Walking towards the window, Fae stopped the wooden crib, peering down at its contents, a pudgy-cheeked baby, a thin layer of dark brown hair on her almost perfectly round head, a pair of violet eyes placidly staring back at her.
Wait, violet? No, that wasn’t right. Lizzie’s eyes were brown. Fae reached down, picking her up for a closer look. No, no they were definitely a deep, purple violet now.
That was when Raoul appeared in the doorway. “Sorry, sweetie,” He began, walking in, “I must’ve—hey, is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.” Fae mused, not taking her eyes off her daughter’s face, “Do Lizzie’s eyes seem—different to you? Like in that they suddenly changed color?”
Raoul looked over. “Huh.”
“Huh?” Fae repeated, not believing that was all he had to say on the matter.
Raoul went over to the window, shutting it. “Well, children’s eyes change color when they grow. I don’t mean to sound dismissive, but I also really don’t see a reason to be concerned about it.”
Fae shrugged, laying the baby back down in the crib. However, as she tucked the little one back into bed, she couldn’t help but wonder how two brown eyed people made a violet-eyed child. That wasn’t supposed to happen unless Mom had some explaining to do, right? And she knew she didn’t have any explaining to do.
So, what gives?
#
The next morning, Fae’s bleary eyes opened and realized immediately it was too quiet. For months now, Lizzie had woken them up with her “singing”. Not nerssacarily crying, unless she was hungry or wet, but coos, gurgles and even squeaks. Rolling over, she found it was seven A. M.
What?! Fae managed to think through the disappointing fog of sleep, leaping from the bed and running for the nursery. “Roul! Roul, something’s wrong!”
“In the kitchen! And you won’t believe it!”
Fae rang into the kitchen to find Lizzie in her highchair, Roul spooning creamy green mush into her mouth.
“Is that the—” Fae began.
“The mashed avocado?” Roul asked, “Yeah.”
In spite of swearing they wouldn’t, the young parents had become those parents who made their own baby food. For the last month they had been trying to get Lizzie to eat mashed avocado, but the infant seemed adamant that she didn’t like the bland-tasting fruit.
“I didn’t even realize I had grabbed the avocado, but before I knew she was just chowing down.” Roul explained, delighted.
Momentarily forgetting her earlier worry, Fae walked over to the highchair, her mouth first agape then smiling. “Mommy’s so proud of you.” She down and gave Lizzie and kiss on the forehead, only for the baby to start whimpering.
Fae stepped back and both parents blinked. “That’s…odd.” Roul admitted.
Fae tried to shrug it off. “She’s probably still a little sleepy.”
That was when the lights flicked on and off, Lizzie’s whimpering became louder.
Sighing, Roule stood up. “I’ll go check the fuse box.”
#
As the weekend went on, Lizzie continued to be…off.
The whole weekend, wherever they put her, silent, watching. Staring at the wall, staring at her toys. As if she was trying to figure out what they were. And any time Fae or Roul would pick her up she would start squirming and crying, like they were strangers.
Fae was about to try to pick Lizzie up when her phone rang. She looked down to see it was her brother. She accepted the call and put her phone to her ear, “Hey, William.”
“Hey, Fae,” William said, “How are things going? How’s Lizzie? Growing like a weed?”
“Yep.” Fae answered, trying to pick the little girl up again.
“Listen, me and Janet were just thinking,” William began tentively, “If it’s not a bad time for you guys, how do you feel about us bringing the girls over for a little bit?”
Fae thought for a minute. Unlike many visitors since Lizzie had been born, William and his wife Janet actually helped with the baby. They even chained dirty diapers while she was dealing with other chores a few times. And, even with Lizzie’s strange behavior, it wasn’t like they had much going on this weekend. Maybe the more experienced parents might even have some insight. “Sure.”
#
Within fifteen minutes, Fae was sitting down with her brother, explaining the last few days as his daughters, two girls as tow-headed as their father and aunt, were playing on the floor and his wife was in the kitchen making tea. Apparently, Fae’s aura looked like she needed a good strong cup of the stuff.
“She doesn’t have a fever, and she doesn’t really seem— sick.” Fae was finishing up, “But here’s the weirdest part. Her eyes—” She held out Lizzie who had been sitting quietly on her lap—out to William. “Look at her eyes.”
William leaned in, appearing confused at first, then his look changed to one of realization. “Didn’t her eyes use to be brown?”
That was when Janet walked over with a tray of steaming mugs. In her vintage sage green maxi skirt, eclectic ring -cluttered fingers, and golden-brown hair covered with matching sage colored kerchief, the woman looked like she got lost on her way to Woodstock. Of course, if Fae had come from a family of folk singers, she might have dressed the same way.
“Forget about her eyes.” Janet exclaimed urgently, sitting the tray down on the smooth, rectangular coffee table, and leaning towards the infant, “Her aura’s just—almost completely different. It’s normally a light blue, now it’s—lavender with these weirds dots of sliver and gold, I don’t know how I didn’t notice it the moment we walked in the door—”
Fae looked over to William, silently asking him to calm his wife down.
“You know what, honey, why don’t we just—all sit down for a moment.” Willam urged.
Janet sighed, turning to her husband. “Alright, I got the hint.” She declared before taking her mug and sitting down in the wicket chair across from them.
#
The non-Janet-noted changes aside, Roul and Fae were concerned enough to make a doctor’s appointment for Monday.
“I know I might sound crazy, but something’s wrong.” Fae told their pediatrician, finishing detailing the issues. Minus the changed “aura” or course.
“I don’t doubt you Mrs. Yeats, but I can’t find anything wrong.” Their pediatrician, an older man with snowy white hair, “I’ll take some samples, see what I can find. If I can’t find anything…well, we’ll cross that bridge if we get there. You’re going to want to hold her still. It’ll only pinch a little, but they tend to not like what’s about to happen all the same.”
Fae kept a firm, but gentle grip on Lizzie, who just staired as the doctor stuck the needle in her arms, then started crying as the blood began to fill.
“Sssh, sssh,” Fae soothed, “It’s alright, it’ll only be a minute.”
As the crying got louder, the light overhead suddenly exploded with a loud crash sending glass everywhere and both adults to the floor, Fae gripping Lizzie for dear life.
“Mrs. Yeats, are you alright?” The doctor asked frankly.
“I think so.” Lizzie answered, a breath stuck in her throat, “What was that?”
Crawling over to her, the doctor said, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
#
A few days after the incident at the pediatrician, Fae had strapped Lizzie into the ombre wrap and took her out for a walk through the little thicket of trees behind their home. She always seemed to love it, giggling, and looking at everything. Today, she was only doing on of those things, and it wasn’t giggling.
Silently Lizzie stared as they walked through the trees, only to suddenly start babbling, more than she had in weeks, attempting to raise her pudgy little arm.
“What is it, my love?” Fae asked, starting to take the wrap up, assuming she must need changing or feeding, when she saw it: the mushroom ring from the last time they walked thought the woods. It was a perfect circle of red and white mushrooms, large enough that she could step into it. She didn’t know why, but for some reason she wanted to do just that.
And for some reason, that terrified her.
Petrified, she froze, unable to move, then turned and run as Lizzie started screaming her head off, pulling at the wrap as if trying to get free.
#
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“That’s never stopped you before.” Fae said, standing on the front Poarch next to her sister-in-law as they watched the girls play in the front yard.
“Well, it never involved your kid before.” Janet reasoned, taking off one of her rings, two sliver mermaids meeting around and agate marble. She held it out to Fae, adding, “Before I tell you what I think put this on Lizzie’s skin. If I’m wrong, it won’t hurt her.”
Despite herself, the strange request sent a chill up Fae’s spine. “And if you’re right?”
“Well, we’ll burn that bridge when we get there.” Janet responded quickly.
Lizzie was currently sitting in her bouncy swing, looking off into the distance. Fae crouched down in front of her, pulling up the sleeve of the infant’s sweater then carefully put the ring against the skin of her pudgy little arm. Instantly, the skin started to steam and hiss, burning, as Lizzie screamed and wailed.
Fae yanked the ring away immediately, throwing it to the ground and scooping up her daughter. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry.” She examined the arm and found a perfectly round second degree burn where the ring had been. Gaping, she stared down at the ring, “What the blazes is that thing?!”
“Hematite.” Janet sighed, picking it up, “Made with iron ore.” After beat, she added under her breath, “I didn’t want to be right about this.” A little louder she added, “When I was a kid, Mama would tell us stories. Even I thought they were crazy, but…” She turned to look at her sister-in-law, “Fae, have you ever heard of a changeling?”
#
For the next two hours, Janet gave Fae an in-dept tutorial in all things fair folk, with a heavy focus on the concepts of changelings.
“Nowadays people think these kids just had some sort of physical or intellectual disability the people at the time didn’t know how to explain. It usually didn’t end well for that kid.” Janet finished, “Or in some cases an unfaithful wife trying to explain away why the kid looked like the Coopersmith from down the block. Now, I’m saying every kid with some sort of disability is from the fairy realm—”
“But my daughter is.” Fae finished for her, looking over to where Lizzie, or the fairy that had apparently replaced Lizzie, lay sleeping in the crib. While it wasn’t a headline, it suddenly hit her she should give this child her own name.
Janet looked over to the baby as well. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it might be. And I have no clue what to do about it.”
I think I might. Fae thought. “Tell me how to get into the fairy realm.”
Janet didn’t say anything for a moment, then balked, “What?”
“These things have my daughter.” Fae told her, “Or one of my daughters, because I’m not giving this one back to them either. Not after they abandoned her with strangers. But I’m getting her sister back.”
“Did you not listen to a word I said?” Janet demanded, “Fae, one thing my Mama’s stories all have in common is that fairies are extremely dangerous. If you go into their realm you’ll going to be enslaved or killed, or worst—”
“And you want me to leave my baby girl in there?!” Fae snapped, “Janet, if this was Olive or Myrtle, what would you do?”
Janet didn’t say anything for a long moment, then sighed. “Let me call Mama. See if she can help us.”
#
Unfortunately, the only way Janet’s mother knew of to receive access to the fairy realm involved a full moon, which wasn’t for the next two nights.
It was the worst two nights of Fae’s life.
She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat for worry. Where was Lizzie right now? Was she scared? Was she cold? Were they feeding her? Where did they think her mommy and daddy had gone? Was she hurt?
To try to keep from losing her mind, she spent hours on end gathering the materials she would need. Bread and honey, iron and Rowan and alder wood. Anything that required counting that she could throw. At the end of the two days, she had had a hardy little stockpile hidden in Lizzie and Laura’s room.
That was the name she finally picked out for her other daughter, Laura. She meant when she said she wasn’t giving her back. The fairies were the ones who had abandoned them in the first place, hadn’t they?
And already she loved her.
Still unable to sleep, she stood above the crib, watching Laura breathe in and out, sleeping peacefully. Fae thought she might finally be adjusting to her new environment. She was even starting to become a bit more “talkative” though not nearly as noisy as her siter. Suddenly it occurred to Fae that if this worked, they were going to need a second crib. They were going to need a second of a lot of things.
And if this didn’t work, someone was going to have to tell Roul what happened.
She knew it was wrong, not telling him. But she didn’t know how. He’d think she had lost her mind. All she could think todo was hope he would forgive her when she showed up with an extra baby.
#
In spite of her lack of sleep, as Fae walked through the forest with Janet, looking for the fairy ring, she felt energetic, alert. She didn’t know if she was overly tired or it was adrenaline or a little of both, but she hoped it didn’t wear off until the job was done. “Just to make sure I have this right, I walk counterclockwise around the ring, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Janet confirmed, a ball of nervous energy, “But no more than nine times. A tenth is dangerous. Now, remember, whatever you do, don’t eat or drink anything they offer you. There’s some debate over whether or not you’ll simply no longer hunger and thirst and therefore starve to death, or if eating their food actually cuts you off from the mortal realm, but either way the results are not good. Don’t tell anyone your name, a nickname can work if they insist, don’t trust them, don’t sign any contracts—”
“Don’t offer or accept anything from them except Lizzie.” Fae cut her off, “I know.” They had been going over this for two days. She had the Fairy Survival rules down by heart.
That was when they spotted the finger. “Okay,” Fae breathed, “Here goes.” Taking a deep breath then slowly letting it out, she walked around the ring counterclockwise. Nothing happened. She did it another time.
Suddenly, a ray of moonlight shined down on the ring, revealing a cluster of women and men about the average height of a human, extremely beautiful, with gossamer-like wings sticking out of their back. But even without that, there was something…otherworldly about them. Something that she couldn’t place. They were dancing to the tune of drums and a flute, and something about it enchanted her, drew her in. Before she knew what was happening, she stepped closer.
“Fae!” Janet called out.
“I have to go in, Janet.” Fae whirled around, “We knew this.”
“But you can’t let yourself get entranced.” Janet warned, “For Lizzie’s sake, if not your own.”
Right. Fae nodded, then stepped inside the ring.
#
Suddenly the forest around her was gone, and she was standing in a ballroom made of wood and foliage, decorated in glittering silver and gold and twinkling lights. The number of fairies doubled none of them taking notice of her. They were dressed in glittering silks and satins and lush velvets, the women in floor-length dresses with high-boned collars or square necklines, empire, and tapered waistlines. The men in frockcoats and waistcoats, pantaloons, and tight breeches. And both men and women word elegant, glittering masks on their faces, each one utterly unique.
Suddenly, a strapping male fairy with wheat-colored hair, a glittering onyx-colored masks covering half his face, reached out and grabbed her wrists, pulling her into the a throne of dancers.
“Whoa!” Fae called out, before they started to waltz, “Okay. Um, I wasn’t exactly expecting this.” Then she remembering what Janet had told her about fairies and manners, she began, “Terribly, sorry, it just—took me by surprise—”
However, before Fae could even get the words out, she found herself twirled out of the arms of her current partner and staring into cornflower blue eyes, she was able to step back enough to see a pearlescent half-moon mask over an olive-skinned, oval-shaped face.
“Mmm,” The male fairy mused, “The ball just took an interesting turn. Tell me, lovely one, what is your name?”
Fae thought for a moment. What would be a good nickname? Suddenly, she recalled the inane nickname William had given her as a child. “You can call me Pigtails.”
However, before the conversation could go any further, she was grabbed by the wrist again and pulled across the room.
It became a blur of chaos after that for Fae, being pulled from one partner to another, so fast they blended, barely having time to dance with one before being whisked away to another fairy like she was the shiny new toy. Maybe she was.
Finally in the confusion, she wrapped her fingers around an alder branch in her backpack, ripping it out and thrusting it at a fiery-headed woman fairy in a green brocade dress, who yelped.
“Nobody touch me!” Fae exclaimed, “I have alder wood, and I know how to use it.” Under her breath she admitted, “Kinda! Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just want my daughter back.”
“Well, you’re not going to get anywhere with such bad manners.”
The whole room went silent, and the fairies split like the red sea, making a path for a lean male fairy with short palatium blonde hair. He was dressed in sliver breeches and matching frock coat, a sliver mask covering his entire face, and he walked down the makeshift hall with the confidence of one who owned the place until he was were inches away from Fae’s branch.
“Don’t swing.” He requested casually, removing the mask and revealing a thing pale face with sharp refined features. “I do not believe we have been formerly acquainted. I’m Lord Anatoly, host of this soiree.”
“Is that you real name?” Fae asked, getting straight to the point.
For a moment Anatoly froze in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Long story short, my sister law explained how this all works so before I came in here.” Fae explained, “Names have power, so I doubt you would just give some gate crasher your real name, right?”
Anatoly didn’t say anything for a minute, then asked, sounding intrigued, “And how did such a clever guest come to be in my hall?”
Fae got right down to business, trying to keep her gaze steel. “It’s like I said. You, or at least your people took my daughter. I want her back.”
A sly smile crossed Anatoly’s face. “Well, I think I know just who to talk to about that. Oh, your Majesty, I know you weren’t expecting to half to work tonight, but—”
Just then a tall, willowy, sienna-skinned woman burst through the crowd. She was draped in a floor-length gold-toned dress with a tapering waistline, her raven hair twisted into elegant knots, a golden tiara setting on top of it. She held herself with bold dignity.
Fae swallowed. She was in trouble now.
“Dear mother, may I interduce you to Tatiana,” Anatoly began, “Queen of the fairies.”
“Oh,” Fae said, giving a half-curtsey, “Pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”
“Now you show some common courtesy.” The fairy queen commented, “Still, I’m not unsymmetric to your plight, thought pre tell, how did you come to the conclusion that we have your daughter?”
“Well…respectfully, you didn’t do a very good job of hiding it,” Fae said, “Her eyes are a different color, she blows up light and burns when iron touches her.”
“I see.” Tatiana said, “Well, it appeared, whoever switched out your daughter must have bungled the enchantments. No matter now, if you would be so kind as to lower your weapon, we can settle this matter right here, right now.”
Fae slowly lowered the branch, and the queen snapped her fingers. Within seconds, two identical wooden cradles appeared, each with an identical baby girl inside. They even fixed the eye color.
“How—” Fae said astonished.
“One of these infants is the one you bore.” Explained the fair queen, “The other is the changeling one of my subjects left—which I will be dealing with after this. You may leave this hall with whichever child you claim as your own. Choose wisely.”
“But they’re bothmy children.” Fae responded indignantly.
The fairies whispered amongst themselves in surprised confusion. At last, Anatoly asked, “How do you mean?”
“I came here to get back the child you stole from me, but I never said anything about giving my adopted daughter back to you. “
Tatiana didn’t say anything for a minute, appearing to be deep in though.
Oh crap. Fae thought. Had she overplayed her hand?
Fae would never know if somehow she touched the heart of the fairy queen, or if her stubbornness impressed Tatiana, or perhaps she simply found the argument amusing, novel enough to merit a reward. Whatever the case she said, “Alright. You may take both.”
#
Janet was surprised to see Fae reappear, leaving the fairy ring with a baby girl safely tucked each arm.
“You did it?!” Janet balked.
“I did it!” Fae confirmed, breaking into an ear to ear grin, scarcely about to believe it herself.
Janet rushed in for a hug, saying. “I don’t believe it!”
“I thought was close for a few minutes, there, too.” Fae said, “Now come on, let’s get home. I need to tell Raoul why we need to buy another crib. And more clothes. Actually, we need to double up on a lot of baby supplies.”