Conjure Web Read online

  “What do the Fae want with the human children?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody seems to know, though there are theories on the subject. You might ask Rowan—she probably knows more than me.” Tad paused, then said, “You do realize this case is likely to end in a bad way? Either Tabitha will emotionally distance herself from the child because she doesn’t believe it’s her daughter, or she’ll hurt the girl. Or abandon her.”

  I jerked my head up. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, in almost 80 percent of the cases involving suspected changelings, the end result involves some sort of heartbreak. The original children are never seen again. The parents either go crazy because they are convinced the child isn’t theirs—and rightly so—so they hurt the changeling, or they abandon it. Even if we prove that little girl is a changeling, which is hard to do, then what next? The DNA will still say it’s Zoey.”

  “Way to make a bad situation darker, dude,” I said, but gave him a soft smile. “I’m already frustrated. I can’t imagine how Tabitha feels. And yet…”

  “Yet, there’s a part of you that believes that it’s actually Zoey and that Tabitha is overreacting?”

  I nodded. “I hate that I feel that way, but even with everything I’ve seen, there are so many other possible explanations. So, what do we do? What good is it if we prove this isn’t Zoey?”

  “It’s not going to help anyone, really. But we can’t let that stop us.” Tad slid up on the table next to my chair, swinging his legs as he stared toward the living room. “January, do you know what my first experience with the paranormal was?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think you told me.”

  “My grandmother died. I loved her so much—she was the world to me. My parents were loving, but distant. But Nannie? She was always there. Until she wasn’t. I was eleven, and she died, and I felt abandoned. So, one night, I was really missing her and I sat on my bed and begged her to come back. And she did.”

  “Oh hell, that must have been a shock.”

  “It was. She was standing there, looking a lot like she had when I last saw her, but she was mad as hell at me. She gave me a scolding I never forgot. She warned me never to call back the dead, not unless I knew exactly what I was doing. She said there were a lot of dangerous spirits out there, which scared me even more because I was worried about her. Then she told me, Tad, there are some situations you just can’t win. There are some circumstances where you’ll have to just suck it up and move on. And then she vanished for good.”

  I tried not to laugh, but the image of Tad’s grandmother’s ghost scolding him was too much. “It sounds to me like she didn’t stop being your grandmother when she died.”

  “True, and I took what she said to heart. I felt better, seeing she was still…I’d use the word alive, but that’s not correct. That she still existed, I suppose. And I suppose that’s the day I became a realist rather than an optimist.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I leaned on her advice when the bullies in high school picked on me. There was no way to win. If I tried to outwit them, it just made them angrier. If I brought in help, they’d just wait until they caught me alone. I did my best to dodge them, and when they did catch me, I practiced non-resistance as best as I could. I think that was actually a deciding factor in them finally leaving me alone.”

  “Oh?” I could easily imagine Tad being picked on in high school. He was lean, short, and a brilliant geek. The perfect bully magnet.

  “Yeah, it’s like…when I stopped resisting, they got bored and left me alone. I found my salvation in choosing inaction.”

  “Isn’t that a form of Buddhism?”

  “You’re thinking about non-resistance, and yes, that’s a tenet of some forms of Buddhism. Anyway, I’ve discovered that when you don’t set yourself up for disappointment, it’s easier to deal with when it comes.” He added, “I don’t think Tabitha wants to hear my story or would understand how it applies to her, but in this case, her best bet is to accept the situation and find a way to make it work for her, or to give the child up. Because chances are good the real Zoey will never appear again.”

  I didn’t like fatalism, but I also saw Tad’s point. Beating your head against a brick wall didn’t work very well, and while I was a stubborn woman, even I knew when it was time to throw in the towel and give up. But I didn’t feel it was that time for Tabitha, not yet.

  “Has anybody ever contacted the Fae in the Mystic Wood? The Woodlings?”

  Tad gave me a sharp look. “Not the best idea, January.”

  “Maybe not, but if there’s a reason they’re swapping children, we should at least know why.” I paused, thinking of my trip into the wood the night before. “I think I actually saw a Woodling last night.”

  “What?” Tad glanced at me. “They’re so rare that almost nobody ever sees them.”

  I told him about our sojourn into the wood, and the creature I had seen in the glowing light. “It was odd, humanoid but definitely in no way human. It reminded me…I don’t know, of a person made of branches, or like…oh, you know, something made of Popsicle sticks that have been glued together.”

  “You need to be cautious. If they know you saw one of them, there’s a chance that they’ll come after you to make certain you don’t talk about it.” As Tad slid off the table, Caitlin shouted for us. Our conversation finished, Tad and I hurried in to see what was going on.

  Chapter Eight

  Tabitha was on her feet, looking concerned. She watched as we ran over to Caitlin’s side.

  Caitlin was pointing to the screen. “Look at this!”

  Tad and I crowded behind her, and Hank came running from down the hall where he had been staked out, outside the nursery door. We jockeyed for position to see the screen and then, as we watched, I felt something lurch in the pit of my stomach.

  There, on the screen, Zoey was shifting form. She seemed to be having some difficulty doing so—her face was scrunched up like she was trying to go to the bathroom—and she was holding herself up by the railing on the crib. But then, as we watched, the air around her sparkled and she morphed into a different shape, very similar to the one I had seen in the Mystic Wood.

  “Damn, that’s one of them. I think that’s a Woodling,” I said, trying to keep my voice low.

  But Tabitha pushed her way through to where she could see the monitor. She took one look at the Zoey-substitute and let out a cry, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. “Where’s…that’s not Zoey! I told you that…thing…isn’t my daughter.”

  “I know, and now we have proof. I think. Did we manage to catch the transformation?” I asked, looking at Caitlin.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I did record it. Whatever that creature is—”

  At that moment, the doorbell rang, startling us all.

  “Oh, that’s probably Dr. Fairsight,” I said, running to answer the door. Sure enough, it was. “Come with me,” I said, skipping the small talk.

  Dr. Fairsight was a moderately tall woman, whose golden blond hair was cut in a short layered style. It looked natural rather than out of a bottle, and her eyes were a deep chocolate brown. She was sturdy but proportioned, and wore narrow black rectangle-framed glasses. She was dressed in a pair of linen trousers, and was wearing a pale blue blouse beneath her white lab coat. She followed me back to the setup where we were all watching the monitor. “What am I looking at—oh my,” she said. “I haven’t seen one of them in a long time.”

  “That was Tabitha’s little girl until a few minutes ago. We weren’t sure if the baby was possessed or what, but now we’re thinking changeling.”

  “How can we keep the creature from changing back—” I paused again as the window in Zoey’s room began to open.

  What the hell? A larger figure who looked similar to the young Woodling crept in and swept up the baby. She reminded me of some woodland sculpture in motion as she held the baby to her breast. She held it tenderly, glowing eyes soulful and sad as she rocked
the child in her arms. Then, she happened to look over toward the camera. The next moment, she hissed, placing the child back in the crib. As she backed away toward the window, the young Woodling began to scream, holding out her arms. The mother gave one last frantic look at the camera, then toward her baby, and darted out the window, leaving the child behind.

  Hank raced down the hall. I followed along with Tabitha and the doctor as Tad and Caitlin headed out the door to see if they could head the Woodling off at the pass.

  As we entered the nursery, the child looked at us, holding out her arms, crying. She began to shimmer, transforming back into Zoey as we surrounded the crib and turned on the light.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” I said.

  Tabitha, however, surprised me. She bit her lip, staring at the child, then walked over to the crib and picked up the baby. “Did your mother leave you? You miss her, don’t you? I’m sorry. It’s okay…it’s all right.”

  As she began to soothe the child, I glanced over at Tad, bewildered. The doctor shook her head as I opened my mouth to ask Tabitha what she was doing. A few moments later, the child had calmed down and Tabitha reluctantly gave her over to the doctor to examine.

  We moved back into the living room, where I turned to Tabitha. “I thought…”

  “I know, but when I saw that…I guess it was the mother…looking so forlorn when she had to leave her child… No mother should have to leave her child behind. Something must have forced her hand. I know that I’ll do anything I can to get my Zoey back,” she said, tearing up. “But now that I’ve seen what’s going on, I can’t just ignore the baby. She needs a mother.”

  Ah, the hormones had kicked in and the mothering gene had come out full force. Which was probably the best thing that could happen for the Woodling child.

  “Sit down, it’s been an eventful afternoon.” I guided her to a chair. “First, do you understand what’s happened?”

  She shook her head. “Zoey’s missing. That child…creature…in there isn’t my baby. I’m not crazy!”

  “They’re called Woodlings. They’re members of the Fae race. There’s a wide diversity among the Fae, but the Woodlings seem to live here in Mystic Wood. I don’t know if they exist elsewhere,” I said.

  Tabitha frowned. “I thought Faeries were…like the children of gods. You know, the Tootha…”

  “Tuatha de Dannan? Yes, some of them are, but there are as many variants in the Fae race as there are in…well…cat breeds, or dog breeds. They’re more diverse than human ethnicities.” I was doing my best to recall what I had learned about cryptobiology in high school.

  “I see,” she said. A moment later she asked, “So they’re the ones who kidnapped Zoey?”

  “We think so. We can’t be sure, not 100 percent, but it looks like it.”

  “Why?” Tabitha hung her head, biting her lip. “And why give me one of their babies?”

  “Well, that’s the million-dollar question,” Tad said. “Nobody really understands why the Fae exchange children. I don’t think anybody has ever had the chance to ask them, and there’s no guarantee we’d get a straight answer. The Fae are scheming. Though I think, if the Zoey-replicant is a Woodling, she’s not likely to be dangerous to you.”

  “Now that we have proof on film, we should bring the police into it. Millie knows me, she’ll take this seriously.” I pulled out my phone and searched through my contacts till I found her name. “I’m going to give her a call.”

  As Tad and Tabitha continued to speak, I moved to one side. Millie came on the line after two rings.

  “Hey, Millie, it’s January. We have a bit of a problem here—one you’re already somewhat familiar with. Do you remember Tabitha Sweet coming to see you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Millie said, sounding hesitant. “I have to tell you, I think she’s a little loose in the nuts and bolts department.”

  “Time to think again, Millie. My office is investigating this case, and we just caught proof on tape that her baby really isn’t Zoey. We’re dealing with a changeling here. That child belongs to the Woodlings.”

  Millie was silent for a moment, then she let out a long sigh. “Oh lordy, that’s even worse. What happened?”

  I told her everything, starting from the first meeting Ari and I had with Tabitha. “It’s an illusion so flawless that it’s fooled the doctors. Fae glamour is nothing to muck around with. But it means that Zoey is actually missing, and she’s probably with the Woodlings.”

  Millie dropped her voice. “January, do you know how many changeling cases are ever solved?”

  “Few, from what I understand.”

  “Right. Making a trip into the Mystic Wood to confront the Woodlings is problematic and dangerous. That is, if you can find them in the first place. Confronting any member of the Fae race is dangerous. We can’t contain them in the jails, and believe me, I’ve tried on a couple occasions. They always manage to escape. We can’t force them to tell us the truth—though usually they do come up with some twisted story that’s half-truth, half-lies. We can’t do much of anything about the situation. Now, I’ll try my best, of course, but please, don’t get Tabitha’s hopes up. I’ll be over in half an hour.”

  She hung up and I stared at my phone. I was getting tired of situations we couldn’t wrap up in a tidy bow. So many cases in the world of the paranormal were unsolvable, from shadow men, to land wights rooting deep into an area, to ghosts that couldn’t be chased away.

  I turned to find Caitlin staring at me.

  I gave her a faint shake of the head. “Millie’s coming over.” I didn’t want to say more in front of Tabitha. Even though Millie had warned me not to get her hopes up, I didn’t want to dash them, either.

  “Well, we’ll see what she has to say.” Caitlin glanced at the clock. “When will she be here? It’s three-twenty now.”

  I frowned. “She said half an hour. I can’t stay late, by the way. I am meeting Killian’s sister tonight. Talk about stress on top of stress. I need to go home and change.”

  “That’s fine,” Tad said. “Take off on the dot of five.”

  Hank and Tad were searching through the footage, looking for anything to give us any more information. Tabitha was lying down in her room, feeling faint. Caitlin and I headed into the kitchen to make a pot of tea for everyone.

  “So, this has escalated rapidly,” I said. “Ari and I would have been in way over our heads. I don’t know what made us think we could take care of this on our own.”

  “Oh, I think you would have figured things out. It just might have taken longer. It’s the same thing that makes us—as a group—think we can manage anything. The damage never seems quite as bad as it actually is until you get inside to survey the situation.” She added, “I’m going to talk to my parents and tell them I’m not marrying Arlo. Talk about big implosions. I don’t mind admitting that I’m nervous.”

  “As I said, you can always crash at my place. For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing, Caitlin. You can’t marry a man you’re not in love with, especially since your Pride doesn’t encourage or approve of divorce. And you’d be doing him a disservice too. You both deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them.” I glanced over at Tad, then back at her, holding her gaze.

  She blushed, but ducked her head. “Thank you for the support. I appreciate it. I don’t have many girlfriends I can talk to. Most of the girls I went to school with are married and totally absorbed in their families.” She paused as the door to the nursery opened and Dr. Fairsight came back out.

  I stood up. “Tabitha is lying down, Doctor. What did you find out?”

  The doctor sat down on the sofa and motioned for us to join her. “To all outward appearances, that’s a healthy little human girl. But I used an energy spectrogram, and a Fullon’s species detector, and beneath the glamour, the energy indicates that yes, she’s full-blooded Woodling. Now, without those tests, her bloodwork and everything else will show as human, but she’s a changeling, a
ll right.”

  I caught my breath. “Why do they do this?”

  “Other than other humans, Woodlings are the worst offenders when it comes to kidnapping human children. Nobody knows why, but we speculate that it’s because they have an extremely low birthrate, and a high infant mortality rate. So it’s a rare event when a baby is born. They also live in a dangerous world with a number of natural predators and so we think they’re trying to protect their children by hiding them away till they grow up. The easiest way is to trade them out for human babies. They raise those children as slaves, although from what I gather, they treat them well. But they’re still slaves, and if a human child dies, it’s not a tragedy for the race. If one of their own dies—it’s a blow to their numbers.”

  I sighed. “Well, hell. So what do we do? How do we get Zoey back?”

  “Normally, I’d think that the mother of this baby is raising Zoey. But since you saw her checking on her own child, I don’t know. I’d guess that she’s making certain that Ms. Sweet is taking care of the child. When you saw her, she ran to avoid capture.” Dr. Fairsight shook her head. “As to finding Zoey, that’s going to require a trip into the Mystic Wood, and then a lot of luck to find their territory.”

  I turned to Tad. “What do you know about this? Are the Woodlings dangerous? If I go stomping around in the forest, will they try to kill me?”

  “Not likely, I think. There are Fae that are deadly, but I’ve never heard of the Woodlings outwardly attacking anyone, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Oh, they would defend themselves if you threatened one of them, and they would go after you if you threaten their children, but I doubt if they’ll do more than try to throw you off path—” Tad paused as Dr. Fairsight raised her hand.

  “There are some cases where the Woodlings used other creatures to defend themselves. Like wolves, bears, mountain lions. So don’t count on a lack of resistance. They just might not be the ones launching the arrows. Their defense is—like their minds—calculating and clever.”

  I sighed. “Well, what can we do? Obviously we can’t leave Zoey out there. We have to at least try to find her. Even though Tabitha was concerned for little…whatever her name is, the baby in the crib, I doubt if she’ll ever be able to love her or forget Zoey.”