Traitor (8 page)

Dalbach chose his words carefully, seeming to roll them around on his tongue before articulating them aloud. “I suppose if I were you, I would want someone a little, ah,
hardier
, if you will. He’s so fragile, and that’s not a bad thing,” he added quickly when he saw my face contort in rage. “He’s human, that’s all I meant. What if you’re injured and no one is close to him to notice he’s wounded? You’ll heal, sure, but what about him?”

That was the million-dollar question I asked myself every day, but I wasn’t going to let him in on that secret. “Liam can take care of himself.”

Dalbach crossed his arms in an argumentative manner. “You didn’t seem to think so at the woman’s house.”

I exhaled loudly. “Look, if it doesn’t matter to you, then why ask?”

He grinned profusely, knowing he was hitting a nerve, and shrugged. “Just curious. I’m interested as to why you act the way you do. You’re something of an enigma to me. No human – Bridger or not – has ever taken an interest in the welfare of a Changeling. Forgive me for wanting to understand what makes you tick.”

No matter what his intentions were, I didn’t care. Changelings were vile, even if they were on our side. Nothing would change that. Or was that really the case? I pursed my lips. It was uncharacteristic of a Changeling to be annoyed, and Dalbach called me on it as his hands returned to opening the crack. “You know we never get frustrated. We enjoy the chaos.”

“Yeah, well, chaos isn’t something I try to schedule in on a daily basis.”

Dalbach had successfully opened the crack this time. “You’d better get used to being one of us. You’re going into our land now.”

Without another word, he rocked back on his heels and launched himself forward. The pull of the crack grasped him with tendrils of dark grey smoke and I watched as he disappeared into the nexus of shifting reds and blacks.

Dark magic.

I sighed, then sucked in one more breath and leaned into the red haze and felt the pull. The smoke wrapped itself around my wrists and ankles like vines as it pulled me toward the center of the crack. Instinctually I fought against it, but that only made it worse. The smoke tightened and yanked me forward.

Flushed down the toilet again. No matter how many times I’d gone through cracks, the feeling was something impossible to get used to. I came out on the other side, rolled forward and popped up more gracefully than usual. It didn’t feel like becoming practiced in going through cracks was a good thing. Neamar was a place to avoid as much as possible.

Dalbach laughed at my display. “Ready to go, Keelin?”

I looked around, searching for the person Dalbach was speaking to. When I realized there was no one else here, I pointed to myself. “Keelin?”

“Would you prefer to use Ashlyn and get us both in trouble?”

Ah, made sense. I nodded. “Good call. Does it mean anything I should know about?”

Dalbach smiled. “Actually, it’s Celtic for ’slender’. Appropriate, considering how skinny you are, no matter what form you take.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. I turned to take in the sight of Neamar. If hell was real, I didn’t know how it could be any worse than Neamar.

There was no fire and brimstone; Neamar was disconcertingly docile. However, upon further inspection, you could see and feel the hatred that permeated every corner of this desolate place. Desperation pervaded the air; the tension from unending fights was so thick that it laid over everything like a thick, invisible blanket. The grass was browning in spots, not unlike what our yard in Fairborn looked like during the summer months. There were green patches hanging on, but they were there to make it all the more miserable – the hope of something that would never come to fruition. It was mainly just dead and brown.

The trees were gnarled and had no leaves. Wind blew across the expanse, chilling me to the bone despite the humid and sweltering heat. Dead leaves swirled around my feet. It wasn’t fall, but it wasn’t summer. There was no season that could describe Neamar. It was as though Neamar embodied every horrible aspect of each season in the human realm. An inhuman howl erupted from far away, but I could feel the pain that someone out in the distance had just experienced.

A visceral shiver coursed through my body. This place scared me, plain and simple. What if we never left this place? What if Ankou caught us and I never saw my family again? Never again felt Liam’s embrace or laughed at a corny joke from Reese? I closed my eyes and tried to embrace the Changeling part of me to better understand what I should act like.

Part of me was scared to dig deep into the Changeling being. What if I unearthed something within myself that was waiting for its moment to strike, to take me over the way it had when the Changeling lost long ago? The thought sent a prickle of fear down my spine. I pushed the thought from my mind. Now was definitely not the time to play mind games with myself.

Dalbach was impatient. He had reason to be. We were breaking every rule possible and attempting to break a human out of Neamar. No one would ever think of doing that. They’d have to be mental.

Good thing I fit the bill.

He tugged at my pencil-thin fingers. “Keelin, are you ready?”

I opened my eyes once more. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He hopped off the ledge of the cliff we had arrived on in Neamar. Agile as a mountain goat, he scaled down the mini-mountain and landed on the dead grass below. He grinned his half-toothless grin and motioned for me to come down. “Keelin, it hasn’t been that long since you were here. Did you forget how this goes?”

I hated heights with a passion. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I did what I do best: I drew attention to myself.

Taking three steps toward the ledge, I pushed off a little too late and slipped down the rock face. I hit every jagged rock on the way down and face planted into the ground at the bottom. The dusty dirt filled my nose and mouth, and I choked as I gasped for air.

Dalbach cackled in appreciation. By the time I had pulled my face out of the soil, a ring of Changelings had gathered around me. They all pointed and laughed as they fed off of my pain and embarrassment. I was inviting them in like tossing chum into shark-infested waters.

I pushed off the ground. Summoning every bit of Changeling I had, I began to grunt, stomp and mutter unintelligible things to make them think I was fine and encourage them to go away. Dalbach pushed through the mass to grab my head and put me in a headlock. I fought against it and bucked him off of me. He skidded backwards and slammed against the rock face again, a few small pebbles bouncing off his head. He looked at me angrily, shaking his head minutely. I realized he had been trying to get us out of the situation a moment too late.

The other Changelings were getting even more excited from the fray that Dalbach had created. I felt a Changeling leap onto my back when I turned to go help Dalbach. It began pulling what little hair I had out of my skull, screeching like a banshee. I grabbed it by the neck. The wiry muscles in its neck were strained and taut as the Changeling fought to free itself from my grasp. Its scrabbling fingers found no purchase, and I proceeded to fling it over my shoulder. The Changeling landed with a loud crack in front of me. His neck was bent awkwardly.

I recoiled from what I had done, staring at my hands – the scrawny, mottled hands of a Changeling – and came close to crying. My mouth moved, but no words came. What had I become? I looked up when it dawned on me that the air had gone eerily quiet.

Every Changeling had gone still the instant their cohort was murdered. All of their pitch black eyes were focused on me with accusation etched in every face. This was going to get ugly quick. They began to squeeze in around me. One particularly large Changeling made its way to the center and pressed his face against mine. “Oy, what are you thinkin’, killin’ one of us? Ankou won’t like to hear this, no he won’t.”

The others murmured their assent. A few were cracking their already over-large knuckles, hoping for the brawl to begin again. The crowd seemed to ebb and flow, all of them trying their hardest to get closer to me. Dalbach pushed through the mass and squeezed his way between the unnaturally large Changeling and me. “Aneas, my apologies. I think we both saw the Changeling attack Keelin, did we not?”

It was clear that this Aneas character wasn’t a fan of properly annunciated words or Dalbach’s speech in general. “I saw it, yeah. Doesn’t mean Keelin needed tah kill ’em off.”

I stepped around Dalbach, frustrated. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

Aneas glared at me reproachfully. “Doesn’t matter much, now does it? Yeh did. Ankou needs to know one of his own is killin’ other ones off.”

Dalbach pushed me further behind him so he could go toe-to-toe with Aneas. I felt the other Changelings push me back into the circle, their hot breath much too close. Goosebumps raised the small hairs on my neck, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. These Changelings were bloodthirsty and I was on the menu.

Dalbach put a spindly hand as close to Aneas’s shoulder as he could, considering the height disparity between the two of them. “Aneas, certainly this isn’t something that needs to be discussed with Ankou directly. Deaths happen every day. I will inform Jamie. She’ll pass it on to our master.”

The murmurings started up again. It seemed that no one wanted to mess with Jamie. I couldn’t blame them. Aneas stroked his bald chin thoughtfully. I couldn’t imagine how hard he was working to make it look like he was thinking anything in that head of his. It was obvious his head was devoid of everything – including rocks. He jutted his head in my direction. “Is this Changelin’ yer servant, Dalbach?”

Dalbach inclined his head, the true picture of someone utterly ashamed. “I am afraid so. We’re working on what it means to be a Changeling. He’s new. Forgive me.”

Aneas looked around to the mob. “Aye, what do yeh say? Kill Keelin, or eat the dead one?”

A cheer erupted from the crowd. “Eat the dead one! Eat him up!”

Dalbach grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the surging mass. I looked back long enough to see unrecognizable bits of what used to be the Changeling fly up into the air. I turned my head back around, cowering into Dalbach. I felt him put his arm around my shoulder. It felt uncharacteristic. When he spoke, he sounded genuinely concerned. “Can you manage to keep a low profile now?”

I was shocked he had tried to comfort me. I looked at him, confused. Changelings didn’t have feelings. The surging mob behind us proved that. What made Dalbach different?

He sensed my questions and withdrew his embrace. “I’ll take that as a no. Just stay behind me and don’t kill anyone else or yourself. I’ve seen your lack of gracefulness in action. It’s terrifying.”

He walked ahead, now wary of the prying eyes that surrounded us everywhere we looked. I kept my head down, not wanting to see how many Changelings had me on their radar, but I felt their heavy stares bearing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake off. If we made it out of here alive, it was going to be nothing short of a miracle.

I struggled to keep up with his effortless gait. He was used to his Changeling body. I was not. It probably looked like I was an animal that should be shot and put out of my misery, especially now that I was walking with a limp. My lungs burned as a stitch in my side began to feel like a knife was lodged between my ribs. “Dalbach, wait.”

He stopped and swirled around to meet me face-to-face. It was still weird to look him in the eye. He was supposed to be two feet shorter than me. “Ash – Keelin, what do you want? Do you want to finish your job or not?”

His urgency made me reconsider bothering him again. Instead of asking any questions, my mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. After he sized me up for a moment, he shook his head and turned back around to continue our journey. His pace and intensity reminded me of those walkers I saw in the malls before any of the shops opened. He was burning calories, that was for sure.

We carried on for what seemed like forever. The forest was dense with dead and gnarled trees. Their crooked limbs reached out toward me in a sinister fashion; the smaller twigs curled back and looked like knobby fingers that beckoned me to come closer. It made me conscious to remain as far away from them as possible. Wind hissed between the branches and sounded like malevolent whispers of a different language. This place seemed to feed off of fear. The more I grew uneasy, the louder the hissing became.

I could feel the sun beating down on my back as it glared down on us with no cover provided from the dead trees. My flimsy sheet of a toga that covered my body was pasted to my back with sweat. I wiped my brow to keep the sweat from stinging my eyes and tried to take in the area, but it all felt like a maze of trees. It was impossible to discern a landmark or anything that could help me get out of here if the problem arose.

Without warning, Dalbach stopped. I slammed into his back, pinning him against the tree in front of us. He grunted and tried to push off the tree. “Do you mind, Keelin?”

I pushed off of him, inadvertently crushing him into the tree even more. Pieces of the bark scratched and fell to the ground as his cheek rubbed against the trunk. He groaned as I let up on the pressure after righting myself. I tried to help him by brushing off his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry.”

Dalbach was as close to a grumpy old man as I’d ever met. It would have been hilarious if we hadn’t been smack-dab in the middle of hell. He sighed. “You’re really quite taxing to look after. I hope you know that. Now step back, don’t touch anything and let me work.”

He looked at me cantankerously and turned around. He placed a spindly finger on the knot in the tree and began to move it in circles. The knot began to glow. I stepped back, curiosity mixing with fear. I’d been around enough faery events to know to err on the side of caution when magic was involved. Better safe than dead, and those were usually the end results when faeries were involved.

The red hue of the light grew brighter and turned deep orange. Sparks flew from the center and hissed and fizzled in the dead grass, scarring the ground even further. Dalbach looked back at me. “Get back. It senses something is wrong.”