by Garreth Griffin
It had all started out so nicely; I was over at my sister Karen’s house while her husband Joseph was away at a
football game. My sister had asked me to keep an eye on the diagnostic she was running on her computer while
she ran downstairs to keep an eye on the baby and to get the laundry started. I had no problem with that. It was
a perfectly good excuse to visit my new niece after all.
So there I was; one eye on the computer, the other on the new Dana Hunter hardback. A few minutes went by
and Karen screamed a scream that turned my blood to water. I barreled down the steps of the townhouse to the
first level to find Karen staring at the cradle, her fists pressed to her cheeks.
“Karen,” I gasped, “what in the Lady’s name …”
“Tryst, look! Look at Amanda!”
I peered over Karen’s shoulder into the cradle. My niece still looked like a baby to me. “Sister, I don’t see…”
“Look! Look at her eyes!”
“There’re two of them, and they’re blue ….” And that blue was, upon reflection, making my danger signals go
off. Without even thinking about it, I pulled my cell phone from my coat pocket, already planning to call
Emerald.
“Trystan, Amanda’s eyes are brown … a lovely, lovely chestnut brown.”
I asked something I never should have: “Are you sure?”
“Trystan, this is my baby! I’ve been looking at her every day for the past nine months! YES, I’M SURE!
WHAT’S HAPPENED TO MY BABY??”
I flipped open the cell phone. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” I dialed Emerald’s number.
Within minutes my partner and best friend showed up, dressed as always in her Wild West gambler’s outfit. I
told her the situation and introduced her to my sister and her husband, who had come home. We sat on two
couches facing each other, with a coffee table in the middle. On the table were pictures of Amanda. A LOT of
pictures. One of the first things Emerald had done was to study one of the pictures … the biggest one available
… and compared it to the baby in the cradle. She sat down again, looking very concerned.
Emerald leaned forward and pressed her palms together. “I hate to alarm you two unnecessarily, but there has
been a substitution. The baby in that cradle is NOT Amanda. It’s a close copy, but it’s not her.”
Karen was about to go into hysterics again, but this time we needed her calm. I focused my will and made a
little twisting motion, visualizing a dial in front of me … a dial that controlled emotions. It was a trick I had
picked up on some excursion on another, and as I had hoped, Karen visibly calmed down without realizing it.
Emerald placed an approving hand on my leg. She continued, “Trystan and I have seen this sort of thing
before. The problem is, you won’t believe us.”
“Try,” Joseph suggested.
Emerald gave him a flat look. “Mister Evans, if you want the truth, you got it. Your daughter has been replaced
by a Changeling.”
“A what?”
“A Changeling is a child of faerie left behind to replace a mortal infant.”
Karen said, “By faerie you don’t mean gay folks, do you.”
Emerald shook her head. “No, Mrs. Evans, I mean Elfland.”
Joseph scoffed. “She’s seen Lord of the Rings once too many times.”
Without another word, Emerald stood up and went back over to the cradle, gazing back down at what
purported to be the baby. “Mister Evans, I don’t give a politician’s chance in hell of what you think. I know the
truth, and if at all possible, I will get your daughter back.”
“I’ve GOT my daughter.”
I made a gesture at my sister, telling her to keep quiet. I had just noticed a tightening around Joseph’s eyes; he
believed, too, but wouldn’t or couldn’t admit that to himself. Karen glanced at me, at him, then at me again.
She nodded.
I got up and went over to the cradle. I fished in my inner coat pocket for my shades, and slipped them on. My
magic is keyed to my actions; putting the shades on was my trigger, if you will, for “turning on” my Second
Sight. I studied the cradle for a few minutes, whistling “Tam Lin” under my breath. The ditty turned into a low
whistle as my Sight keyed into what I had hoped would be there, glittering like starlight; faerie dust. It was a
trail that led out the door.
I took my shades off and glanced at Emerald, who nodded. She’d had several more years at this game than I;
of course she had seen the trail!
I turned back to Karen and Joseph. “Emerald and I are going to step out for a bit. We’ll be back soon.”
Karen suggested, “Well, when you come back, could you bring some dessert for after dinner? Chocolate
something would be great.”
“I think we can do that.” I gave her my goofiest grin. “Back soon.”
Outside I slipped my shades back on. It took me a few minutes to locate the trail again, but I found it. It led
down the steps, across the street, and around to the backside of a large mound. It looked like we were going
Underhill once more. Emerald and I exchanged glances and followed the trail as far as it would take us in this
realm.
It was a sunny day in late fall, with the sky that perfect blue. There was a crispness in the air that energized me.
I felt ready for almost anything.
Emerald touched my forearm. “Tryst, doesn’t something about this strike you as perhaps being a trap?”
“What? You mean besides the fact that it was my niece was taken, that the masters of being unseen left an easy
trail, and have lead us right to their door step? No not at all.”
“Then you did notice.”
“Well, yeah. There’s obvious, there’s too obvious, and then there’s for-crying-out-loud. We’re in the too
obvious stage now.”
Emerald gestured at the hill. “So how do we get in? Speak ‘friend’ and enter?”
I peered at the hill and in a fit of whimsy said, “Mellon.” A doorway materialized with the sound of elevator
doors opening.
Emerald and I looked at each other and chorused, “Oh-for-crying-out-loud.”
COPYRIGHT 2005 BY GARRETH GRIFFIN. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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