The Changeling Below the Bluffs

“The babes need to be left in the woods,” Elder Gòrdan said as Moire stared at the crumbs in his scraggly beard.

“We don’t know if the faeries will even show. We need to wait on the healers from Tuathmuir,” Elder Ùna shouted with red cheeks.

“The babes are withering every day. By the time any healer ventures this far south, there won’t be breath left in their chests,” Elder Gòrdan said, shaking his head.

“It only makes sense the fever is faerie business. Not two days ago were all the babes fine and healthy. Now, they purge up all milk and food. They shake with fever. These are not our babes, but rather faerie babes. We must leave them at the Fife Bluffs for any chance the faeries decide to return our healthy babes,” Elder Peigi explained.

Moire glanced around the crowded hall as mothers and fathers grunted in agreement. A woman with sallow eyes yelled, “What if it was the Pelolians?”

Elder Ùna sighed, “There is no way to know and if we leave the children out in the woods overnight, they will perish. To do this is madness. Returning changelings rarely works! We must care for the babes as best we can while we wait for the healers.”

A man from the crowd stood up. “I say we take it to a vote. It’s our children. We should decide as a whole.”

The crowd bellowed in agreement and Moire glanced at her father, Bhaltair, who sat quietly with furrowed brows.

“Fine. Fine. Let us take a vote,” Elder Gòrdan said. “Those wanting to wait for the healers from Tuathmuir, say aye.”

Moire heard a total of three shy voices.

Elder Gòrdan smiled. “And those wanting to take the changelings to the Fife Bluffs, say aye.”

Moire covered her ears as the room shouted in confirmation and her father nodded his head.

“It’s settled then. We take the babes and offerings at sunset. Those who voted against this may keep their babes at home as they wait for the healers,” Elder Gòrdan said. Moire stood with her father and followed everyone out to the street. They walked side by side along the road back to their home. Moire knew her mother was waiting to hear the village’s decision.

Moire glanced at her father, whose red hair was bustling in the breeze. “So, we are to take Ailios to the Bluffs?”

Bhaltair nodded. “It’s the only chance to get her back.”

***

“Close the door! Quickly!” Eibhlina, Moire’s mother, whispered harshly. “Ailios shivers, yet her skin is so hot. I’m trying to keep the heat in, but I don’t know what good it’ll do.”

The door creaked behind Moire as she sat by her sister’s cradle. In the hearth, Moire could see the blue glow of the igtium lighting the fire at its center. Ailios was just shy of two years, yet she had never looked smaller. She had the thick, red hair of their father and the blue eyes of their mother. Now, her hair lay slicked in sweat across her brow and Moire hadn’t seen Ailios’s eyes open in over a day. They all sat by the cradle, watching the smallest member of their family.

“What did the Elders decide?” Eibhlina asked.

“They took a vote and decided to offer the changelings to the faeries in hopes of a swift return of our babes,” Moire’s father explained.

Moire stood and grabbed the pail of river water. She doused some linen in the cool water and laid it upon her sister’s head.

“Good. We’ll need to bring some milk and bread as offerings,” Moire’s mother said. “Moire, watch Ailios for a bit. I’ll get the milk.”

Moire nodded as she glanced at her mother. Dark circles enveloped her crystal eyes and her light brown hair sprung free from her bonnet. “Of course, mother.” Her mother smiled and kissed Moire’s head as she grabbed the milk pail and walked outside.

Her father sat by the cradle, watching Ailios as Moire walked by to hearth and bruised peppermint leaves for tea. The night before, Ailios spit up all milk and food, and Moire knew her stomach was empty and upset. She had left to find peppermint in the woods to help soothe any unease. So far, it has been the only thing her sister would keep down.

Behind her, Moire heard a sniffle. She turned, thinking Ailios had awoken but saw tears streaming down her father’s face. Moire rushed to him.

“Father, please do not cry. Ailios will make it through this.”

Bhaltair wiped his face, “I am sorry, Moire. You do not need to see me like this.” He stood to walk out the door. “I just can’t lose another child. I don’t think my heart could handle it.”

Moire hugged her father tightly and smelled the forge smoke in his shirt. “Iagan is not lost. He will return after the war. He’s strong like you, as is Ailios. You’re not going to lose any of us.”

Her father planted a kiss on her head as he walked outside. Inside, Moire ladled the peppermint tea from the pot and held it to her sister’s lips. She watched Ailios lick the sweet liquid from the spoon.

“You are so strong, dear sister. I know you will return to us. Even if the faeries do not come tonight, I will find a way to save you,” Moire whispered as Ailios lapped more of the tea.

Ailios’s breathing deepened and her shivers quieted. “Sleep, sweet sister. Soon all will be right.”

***

Igtium lanterns lit the path into the woods and would burn all night. It burned longer and hotter than wood or coals and a single flake could last a week. Along the path, the villagers sang to their changeling babes. They sang the somber song of the goddess, Gelinea, who died in place of her twin sister, Alerina. Moire always had a lump in her throat when she heard the song, and now as she watched her mother and father carry Ailios into the forest to leave her, tears streamed down her face.

“How do we know the faeries will come?” Moire whispered to her father.

“We must—” he started.

“It is her only chance. The Bailmaig healers could not help her, so now we place our hopes on the faeries,” her mother said.

Moire leaned closer to Eibhlina. “Elder Ùna wanted us to wait for the healers from the capitol.”

Her mother pulled Ailios closer to her chest and exhaled. “We cannot wait any longer. Your father was taken by faeries and returned, and so will Ailios.”

Moire watched her sister breathe shallow breaths in her mother’s arms. Though she had only been sick for a few days, Moire missed the melody of Ailios’s laughter, the look in her eyes when she saw butterflies, and the feel of her hugging as tightly as she could. Moire could not lose her sister.

Above the trees, the Fife Bluffs loomed, and Moire pulled her tartan closer as her brown hair thrashed in the gale. The wind was always strong by the bluffs and whistled and trilled like a fife, hence the name. The wind also put a chill in the air, and Moire had no idea how a babe was meant to survive the night in this cold, faerie or not.

Families started placing their babes in nooks, hollows, and crannies along with bowls of milk, chunks of bread, and flowers from their garden in hopes the faeries will deem them sufficient offerings and return the human babes. Short igtium candles speckled the forest floor and amber light flickered against the tree. The night was filled with cries from the babes now they were far from the warmth of their families. The Elders said their prayers to the gods for the faeries to safely return the human babes. After, the families slowly started back to the village.

Moire was kneeling in the wet moss next to Ailios as she cried.

“We must go, Moire. The faeries won’t come if they smell humans nearby. Just one more sleep until we have Ailios back home,” Moire’s father said over Ailios’s wailing.

“It’s too cold, father. She won’t make it,” Moire said as her voice broke.

“This isn’t Ailios. The faeries have her. She will be here in the morning.”

Moire pleaded, “Let me stay a few more moments and I will be right home.”

Her parents looked at each other and nodded at their eldest daughter. Moire sat with her sister until the last of the villagers left and the cries of the babes grew louder and louder. How could they leave when their children were crying for them? She glanced at the retreating villagers and knew she should leave too, just for the chance her sister was a changeling. Moire kissed her crying sister who gripped her fingers with her whole hand and started following the path toward the Bailmaig.

***

Moire could see the igtium lampposts of Bailmaig, yet she could no longer hear the cries of the babes at the foot of the Fife Bluffs. She stood there staring at the village, torn between having faith the faeries would return her sister and being afraid they would never show. Moire turned on her heels and started running back toward the Bluffs where the cries of the babes crescendoed.

In a green pine tree, Moire climbed the whorls of branches until she could see the candlelight and Ailios shivering and crying. Moire had to turn away from the sight.

“If only these blasted faeries would show,” she muttered in the cold night breeze.

Moire had ensured to roost in a tree downwind from the babes so no faerie could register her scent. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her back against the tree. She would wait until she saw the faeries bring back her sister and make sure to swiftly bring her home.

The night waned on and chilled in the wind as the horizon began to lighten. Tears crusted Moire’s eyes as she sat in the tree and listened as the babes slowly went quiet. She hoped they were asleep but knew better. Only a few voices whimpered in the dark as dawn began to approach.

“They’re not coming,” Moire whispered, and her body began to warm with rage. She and the villagers did everything they were meant to and now they were stuck with the changelings. Moire didn’t care though. The babe she held this morning looked and acted like her sister. She couldn’t let her freeze in the cold.

Moire descended from the tree and stalked toward the silent Bluffs. Even the wind had stilled as she approached. Moire’s foot caught on something, and she gasped. The babe from the Buiseid family was blue in the face despite being tucked in wool and completely still.

Moire snapped her gaze to her sister and began sprinting until a current of wind from above knocked her feet from under her and she fell to the ground. Her skull smacked the pebbled forest floor and her vision spun. Unbalanced and panicked, Moire sat up to see a black dragon striding up to each babe. Its dark scales mirrored the candlelight as it sniffed deeply. Moire’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched the air entering its body shift its scales to azure. Her eyes widened with realization. This wasn’t any dragon, but a glass dragon, a servant to the Ramvasti Queen.

The glass dragon passed each babe by until it reached Ailios. Moire stilled as she watched the dragon inhale her sister’s scent. A low growl left the dragon and the scales on its chest brightened with blinding light and silver fire engulfed Ailios’s body.

Moire screamed, grabbed the largest stick she could find, and charged the beast. She was not sure what kind of damage she could inflict on a glass dragon, but she would die finding out. As she lifted her arms to strike the monster, a faint giggle broke through the air. Moire gawked at her sister’s body to see warm, rosy cheeks and crystal, blue eyes gleaming at the glass dragon.

“How?” Moire murmured, as she ran to Ailios. The glass dragon snapped its horned head to her, and Moire could see a darker fire igniting in its chest. Moire flinched as she waited for the fatal blow, but instead, the glass dragon gripped Ailios in its talons and huge expansive wings widened and began to beat above her. Pine needles and dust billowed around them as the dragon took flight.

“No!” Moire yelled as she lunged at the dragon, gripping its swinging tail. Black spines pierced her hands as she struggled to hold on. Her sister had made it through the night. She was alive. There was no way she could let this monster steal her from their family without even putting up a fight.

The dragon snarled at Moire and lashed its tail to dislodge her as they ascended far above the treeline. Moire clenched her fists around its tail, blood flowing down her arms, as she was flung up and down and side to side.

A puff of smoke exhaled from the dragon and it swung its tail towards its body, tossing Moire right into its talons. She lay tight in its claws as they flew higher and higher into the sky.

***

The smell of wood smoke and wet leaves tickled Moire’s nostrils and she sat up as a deep sneeze rumbled out of her. A quiet giggle and hum snapped Moire’s eyes open. A blue fire crackled in front of her, and Ailios sat curled into black wings and claws.

“Ailios! Get away from it!” Moire cried as she crawled through the brush toward her sister. Ailios laughed even harder at the sight of Moire scrambling through the dirt and leaves.

“She’s quite all right,” the dragon said in a rich, deep, velvet voice.

“You kidnapped her!” Moire screamed at the dragon, a male dragon based on its baritone voice.

“I saved her. She was left abandoned in the woods to die in the cold like the rest of those babes. I swear I will never understand Uainachan customs,” the dragon said.

Moire paused. “The other babes are dead?”

The dragon turned away. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t the faeries come?”

The dragon scoffed. “The faeries have enough of their own problems to be dabbling in human business.”

Moire blinked as tears stung her eyes. “Thank you for saving my sister, but we must head home. Our parents will be looking for us.”

“There are much bigger games at play here. I request that both of you come with me back to Dahari,” the dragon said.

“Dahari! That is in Ramvastu. We can’t leave for that long. Our parents couldn’t handle not knowing what happened to us,” Moire said as Ailios started sucking on a stick off the ground.

Silver eyes bored into Moire’s. “You need to see something,” he said as he started to rise. Moire picked up Ailios and tossed the slobbery stick to the ground.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just up the river to the mines.”

“We’re at the Royal Mines?” Moire asked. This was the farthest she had ever been from home.

“Yes. I was sent here by Queen Amritkala. Because of the war between Uainach and Pelolia, Ramvastu must decide whom to support. My Queen does not make decisions lightly,” the dragon said as they walked along the bank of the Uisge River.

“But the Uisge River flows down from Uainach. We have every right to dam the river for the mines,” Moire said as she placed Ailios on the ground to walk.

“Does the Uisge not also flow into Pelolia? Who are the Uainachans to decide where a river must flow? Igtium is essential for all people. Have you no compassion for the hundreds of thousands of people in Pelolia who depend on the Uisge and igtium?”

“I don’t know them,” Moire said.

“It is easy to be apathetic when you do not think of the effect of your actions,” the dragon said flatly. They walked in silence until they reached gigantic, cylindrical vats partially submerged in the Uisge.

“What are these?” Moire asked.

“These are vestige vats. They are used to collect the toxic chemicals left over from igtium refining. The chemicals are extremely hot and take weeks to cool down. That is why they are submerged in the river.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Moire asked.

“Walk over to the third vat down and tell me what you see,” the glass dragon said.

Moire sat Ailios down in the tall grass and walked to the vat. There was a thickly cut gash on the side with blue metal shavings scattered about. “There is a hole in this vat. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Extremely. Do you know what happens when these chemicals enter the water?” the dragon asked and Moire shook her head. “It poisons it, however, the farther downstream the toxins travel, the less likely they are to kill or even sicken an adult. However, if an infant or babe were to ingest this toxin they would be struck with fever and shakes until they ultimately die.”

Moire gasped. “Is this what sickened the babes in Bailmaig?” The dragon inclined its head. “Who would do this? Most of the village’s children died last night.”

“That is what I am trying to find out. If you look at the gash, it was made with an unusually thick blade forged from lunium, a metal that glows in the moonlight. If I can find that blade, I find who did this.”

“I see, but why do you need us?” Moire asked and gestured to her sister.

“For proof. Your sister may act fine, but the toxin is still in her blood. It will be for the rest of her life. My healing fire off put its effects so that she may live, but Queen must know,” the dragon explained.

“Why didn’t you save the other babes?” Moire asked, shifting on her feet.

“Your sister was the only babe still alive. I need you and your sister.” Moire closed her eyes and inhaled shakily. When she opened them she could see the desperation and sincerity in the dragon’s eyes.

“Fine. We will accompany you, but I must send a message to my parents. Besides, I believe my brother is stationed in Ramvastu at the moment. It would be good to see him.”

Smoke filtered from the dragon’s nostrils. “Thank you. We leave as soon as possible.”

“Wait,” Moire asked. The glass dragon shifted its silver eyes to her. “I don’t know your name. I am Moire and this is Ailios.”

“You may call me Etosgah.”

“Eto!” Ailios shouted, and Moire couldn’t help but smile.

***

Etosgah sat beside Queen Amritkala and her consort in the great hall surrounded by nobles and their families. Moire held Ailios while they sat on cerulean cushions embroidered in magenta silk. The spices from the food set out caused her stomach to pang in hunger. Curries filled with chunks of paneer simmered in bowls alongside jeera rice and roti coated in ghee called to her. Moire ate heaping spoonfuls and had never tasted or seen such colorful and delicious food before.

As she sampled each dish, she watched as Etosgah recounted their recent events to the Queen. Queen Amritkala would nod, her long, black hair moving with her and occasionally her large, brown eyes would meet Moire’s hazel eyes, causing her to blush.

“Moire, please come here,” Etosgah called.

Moire quickly stood and walked to the Queen. She bowed her head and said, “Great ruler.”

“Child, someone wishes to see you again,” the Queen said, smiling, “Bring him in.” The grand door to the room opened and a man with short red hair stood smiling in the doorway.

“Iagan!” Moire cried and rushed to hug him. The noble families clapped and cheered with glee and the two siblings embraced. Iagan was a foot taller than Moire last remembered and dark stubble speckled his face.

“You’re all grown up,” Moire said, stepping back to look at him.

“So are you,” he chuckled, “I see you’ve gotten been on quite the adventure.”

“I’d say so. How many people can say they’ve flown dragonback?” she joked and looked at his fine clothes. “I see you are doing very well for yourself here in Ramvastu.”

Iagan ran his hand through his hair. “Yes. After I saved King Oisean’s life, I was promoted as the emissary of Ramvastu.”

Moire’s eyes widened. “And you never told your family? Father has been worried sick.”

Iagan bowed his head slightly. “I’ve been busy, as you can see, but I’m glad you’re here now. I have so much to ask and tell you.” He linked arms with Moire and walked them back to her seat.

They sat and talked well after dinner had finished, and Iagan played with Ailios, who wasn’t even born yet when he was conscripted to join the army. Even Etosgah stayed and chatted with her brother.

Iagan exhaled deeply. “Moire, there is someone I would like you to meet,” and he gestured toward a tall woman with sable hair Moire hadn’t noticed sitting nearby. “This is Sìle Ill’Oig, Left Hand of King Oisean and my future wife.”

Sìle walked toward them with clasped hands and an inclined chin. “Pleasure to meet you, Moire and Ailios. Iagan has spoken frequently of his family.”

Moire was at a loss for words, so she just smiled at her brother’s betrothed. Iagan nervously chuckled. “I know this may be a lot at once, but I wanted you both to meet.”

Moire exhaled. “I am happy for you brother, but after all this time, you couldn’t have written? Father has been afraid you had died, yet here you are, an emissary for the King of Uainach and betrothed to his Left Hand, and your family had no idea.”

Sìle took a step forward. “What your brother does is nothing but his and the King’s business. Be grateful Queen Amritkala is a gracious host and let you into her palace.”

Moire began to laugh. “This is whom you wanted to bring home to mother and father?” she asked with a hand stretched out to Sìle.

“Though I love you and our parents, I never planned on returning to Bailmaig, Moire. I am in a position of power and nobility now. I couldn’t return.”

Tears began to sting Moire’s eyes. “No, you didn’t want to return,” she turned to Etosgah, “Let’s retire for the night.” The glass dragon led Moire and Ailios out of the great hall, with Iagan and Sìle watching.

***

Moire sat on the lush cushions on the balcony of Etosgah’s chambers and looked out over the courtyard below. “She was an awful woman, don’t you think?”

“I did not notice anything contrite about her. Sìle has lived here for a while and is usually polite,” Etosgah said as Ailios climbed the black spines along his back.

“Her tone tonight suggested otherwise.”

“Is it she who bothers you or that your brother found her in his absence?”

Moire let out a breath. “She implied I wasn’t worthy of being here. I don’t see how my parentage has to do with anything.”

“The reason you are here is that you jumped on my back. The reason I let you stay is that you are a loyal and passionate sister. Someone I wanted to travel by my side,” Etosgah said knowingly.

“I grabbed your tail, actually,” Moire said, scooting closely to hug his scaled neck. “Thank you, Etosgah. You have been a good friend.”

Etosgah hummed and Moire saw his chest scales shift to yellow.

Moire looked over the balcony into the courtyard as people began to filter in. “What’s happening?”

Etosgah leaned his horned head over the sandstone balcony. “The Moonlight Spar. It’s the Queen’s favorite entertainment. Two nobles fight with weapons until blood is drawn.”

The Queen and her consort, a woman with ebony skin and dreaded locks, sat on a cushioned throne as two nobles walked to the center of the stone courtyard.

“Who is down there? It is hard to see,” Moire said.

“Kavneer Goswami, a noble from Northern Ramvastu, and Sìle,” Etosgah said.

Moire almost jumped out of her seat. “Can you take us closer? I’ve got to see this,” she said with a smile on her lips.

Etosgah flew Moire and Ailios down to a roof beside the courtyard and both women pulled out their weapons and began circling one another. Kavneer wielded dual swords while Sìle had a large broadsword.

“How is she able to hold that thing? It’s almost as big as her.”

“Sìle did not become Left Hand of the King for nothing,” Etosgah said.

Both women ducked and darted from each other’s blows and the crowd cheered and gasped. Queen Amritkala watched intently as she held her consort’s hand. Sìle was attacking with ferocious blows and with a misstep, Kavneer tripped, and the spar ended with Sìle’s sword against Kavneer’s throat. The Queen clapped and the crowd bellowed as Sìle lifted her sword above her head in victory.

Moire’s breath stopped as the sword gleamed in the moonlight.

She turned to see the scales on Etosgah’s chest brighten. His wings stirred the air as he darted toward Sìle who stalled her cheering with his approach. He slammed into her and pinned her under his mighty talons. Moire grabbed Ailios who was crying and ran down the steps to the courtyard.

“Etosgah!” Queen Amritkala exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Get off her!” Iagan yelled from the sidelines as sepoys ran to restrain him.

In a strangled breath, Sìle said, “Sore loser, Etosgah?”

Smoke floated from his nostrils as his scales glowed. “The sword, my Queen. It is the one I spoke to you of.”

The Queen gestured for the sword to be brought to her. After closely examining the blade, the Queen said to her sepoys, “Arrest her.”

“For what reason!” Sìle shouted as she writhed under Etosgah’s grip.

“For the poisoning and death of Uainachan babes. You will be sent back to Tuathmuir to face judgment for your crimes,” Etosgah said with hot breath.

“How did you come to that conclusion, beast,” Sìle said, chest heaving.

“The Uisge river was poisoned by a defaced vestige vat. The gash and metal match your lunium sword,” Moire said as she stood beside Etosgah, Ailios on her hip.

Sìle started laughing. “I have been in Dahari for the past year. I haven’t even left the palace! How could I have done it?”

Etosgah, the Queen, and Moire all turn to Iagan who was now restrained by sepoys. Moire’s brother’s eyes went wide. “You think I did this? Sister, you know me!”

Etosgah’s silver eyes flared. “It would make sense. You are desperate to hold onto this position and is an emissary not sent on special missions for the crown?”

The Queen stepped toward Iagan. “You were gone last month visiting your family in Bailmaig. That places you in the vicinity.”

Moire scoffed. “Is that what you told the Queen?” Moire said and then said, “Great Ruler, we had not seen Iagan for two years.”

Iagan’s face flushed and despair filled his eyes. “I had to or I would have lost my position. I couldn’t return to Bailmaig to become a farmer like father. I finally have everything I have ever wanted. I couldn’t give that up.”

Tears coursed down Moire’s cheeks. “And you were fine killing innocent children! Your own sister?”

Iagan looked at the stone floor. “I never even knew Ailios. There is always collateral in war. The toxins weren’t targeted for Bailmaig, but for Alibìja, to weaken them in the war over the Uisge.”

“I think that is enough,” Queen Amritkala said, and turned to her consort, “Hamreet, please reach out to Supreme Leaders Ferran and Naroa of Pelolia. Tell them the Ramvastu Queendom now offers its full support.” The Queen shifted her gaze to Sìle and Iagan, as for you two, you will be imprisoned while we corroborate the evidence and your confessions.”

Sepoys carried off Sìle and Iagan, who flailed in their hold. “Moire! Don’t let them take me! Moire! What would father say? Moire!” her brother pleaded.

Moire said nothing as she turned from him.

***

Two hundred sepoys crossed the threshold of the Dahari city walls on horseback as they made their way to the Uainachan border. Sìle rode amongst them and Moire sneered with distaste.

“Your aversion to the Left Hand is quite apparent,” Etosgah chuckled.

Moire squeezed Ailios’s hand, who stood several inches taller than when they first arrived in Dahari, and said to the glass dragon, “I wouldn’t want her to think my presence is anything but a celebration of her departure.”

Over a year had passed since Sìle and Iagan’s arrest, and now they both were being escorted to Uainach. One was on top of a horse and the other was shackled in a prison wain. It seemed King Oisean cared more about his Left Hand than a low-born peasant who saved his life. A windowless wain followed behind the sepoys and Moire held her breath as it passed.

Moire turned to Etosgah. “Let’s return to your chambers. We need to leave soon if we are to reach Alibìja by next week.” The glass dragon nodded and they turned back toward the palace.

Thousands of babes who lived in villages along the Uisge River had died, and the Supreme Leaders of Pelolia had granted asylum to any Uianachan. There was a mass exodus of southern Uianachan villages and all of Bailmaig was amongst them.

Moire looked forward to reuniting their family, but there was a tug on her heart that she was meant to do more.