Page 1 of Changeling
CHAPTER1
Sebastian
Kingdom of Hungary,1614
Being passedfrom one handler to the next is no way to live, but neither is hiding in abandoned buildings, waiting for crazed villagers to kill you, so I’ll take what I can get.
Ivaz, let’s call him my tour guide, explains our latest setback. And by “explains,” I mean he doesn’t tell me anything beyond “You’ll be staying in Pest while I take care of asituationwith the twins. My friend Dominus runs the place, The Twig and Berries. Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll like it.”
If the name is anything to go by, I just might. “For how long?”
“A week or two at most,” says Ivaz in his deep rumble. “Think of it as a relaxing interlude to break up your long journey.”
Long journeyfeels like an understatement. I’ve been traveling for a month solid, and I’m still only halfway to my final destination of the banks of the Baltic Sea. Before this, I hadn’t known creatures such as vampires existed, and now one is taking me to live with a group of them called The Dozen. My mind reels with everything I’ve learned sincethe incident, but my body is weary. A break sounds pleasant. Let’s hope Ivaz is right, and I’ll enjoy this place boldly titled The Twig and Berries.
We ride down gentle, hilly slopes toward the Danube River and the walled town of Pest. I sit atop a borrowed sleepy red gelding. The horse must wonder why we’re awake all night, but you can’t explain a vampire’s needs to an animal. Though starlit skies are lovely, I miss the warmth of sunshine and look forward to a more ordinary schedule on myrelaxing interlude.
“Tell me about this fellow Dominus,” I ask to keep Ivaz talking. Lingering in my thoughts brings grief, followed by guilt. “If he’s to be my keeper for the next two weeks, I’d like to know what sort of man he is.”
Ivaz guides his horse closer to mine. We’re alone on a hard-packed dirt road that’s probably busy during the day, but there’s no one in the dark early hours before sunrise. Bugs chirp their mating calls from the trees on either side.
“Dominus is an incubus,” says Ivaz. “He’s male, but not a man in the human sense of the word. Though neither are you, really.”
Huffing a sigh of frustration, I wonder when each new revelation will be less shocking? I was raised by a human family and believed myself to be one of them until recently. But I’m not human. I’m a changeling—a faeborn left in the cradle of a stolen human baby by faeries who abandoned me in favor of a mewling infant. It’s been a rotten meal to swallow. I still find myself choking now and again, no matter how hard I try to shove those thoughts aside. “What’s an incubus?”
Ivaz’s thick black brows climb his forehead. Of all my escorts, he’s the one most surprised by my unfortunate lack of knowledge of anything remotely supernatural. “An incubus is a type of demon who feeds off the…pleasure of others.”
“Pleasure?”
“Sex.”
I sputter a cough. Though I’m not a prude by any means, sex as food is yet another new concept for me. “How?”
“How do you think?” Ivaz says with a chortle.
Oh. Well, perhaps I won’t dwell on that now. Sex demons can go on the long list of things to ponder later—along with gargoyles, werewolves, and nymphs. What I really need is to curl up in a fluffy nest of blankets and sleep on this until…forever sounds good. Instead, I shutter the turmoil further into the murky shadows of my mind and press on.
To think, my mother was a seamstress and my father the town blacksmith. Kind, ordinary people with humble lives and modest ambitions. My whole life they believed I was their son, but we weren’t related. Not even the same species. And now they’re gone.
I should have known. Maybe I did. I don’t look anything like them or like any of the other Greek people in my village. My features are all wrong: my skin too pale, my nose too small and round, my lips too thin, and my eyes and hair a light brown, not dark.
And for as long as I can remember, I’ve had magic. I’ve known for nearly as long that it wasn’t a blessing. My magic must remain secret, a burden to be hidden, not a gift to be celebrated. So the tingling buzz of energy around my fingers? I ignored it. The pull of wind currents, the urge to call water to do my bidding, the draw of plants and animals alike? I shunned and turned away.
Until I couldn’t.
I shudder. Humans are cruel. My only hope is that these vampires I’m heading toward will provide the safe haven I’ve been promised. They shelter other faeborn within their number. Apparently, our blood is sacred for them. Curative and essential to the well-being of their ancient ones. While the thought of donating blood is unsettling, the possibility of fitting in somewhere, of meeting others of my kind, is a big enough draw for me to overlook my doubts. I want to belong.
As we approach the great stone walls of Pest, my heartbeat speeds up, and I tighten my damp fingers on the reins. What will I find here in a new city full of people? Will they turn into an angry mob at the first hint of witchcraft in their midst? Of course, there shouldn’t be any reason for me to use magic, but after what happened in my home village, well, I can never be too cautious.
The gates to the city stand open and unguarded. As we step inside the walls, I shiver and glance over my shoulder. They haven’t closed behind me, and I relax back in the saddle.
We leave the horses with a groggy attendant unaccustomed to working at this hour. I feel bad for the boy until Ivaz hands over extra coins.
“So who are these twins that need a situation sorted?” I ask before I’m alone with my thoughts again.
Ivaz waves this off. “Just brothers of mine in a spot of trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
I have my doubts, but since he doesn’t elaborate, I change the topic. “Do you know these vampires who’ve offered me shelter, The Dozen?”
