Page 28 of Starchaser
“A Changeling?” I whisper.
“It’s a kind of Underling,” Henry says, his words somewhat slurred even as his eyes appear to focus for the first time since our arrival.
“But my attacker acted as if he wasn’t an Underling,” I say, shaking my head. “And his eyes were red only for a moment before they turned gold.”
“Changelings often consider themselves something more thanjustUnderlings—somethingother,” Will explains, and it’s only then that I notice the pixies are no longer laughing. “Changelings absorb the likeness—as well as the memories—of a child no more than six in order to grow up as a sort of spy, waiting to be recalled to service by Morana when she has use for them.”
“They’re like Shifters,” Killian adds, “only they take not just the likeness of another but their power as well.”
“They take theirlives!” Lord Bludgrave clenches his fists, clearly ruffled by the subject. “They invade their victim’s family like a parasite.”
Killian, in a rare show of support, seems to agree with Lord Bludgrave. “It’s difficult for everyone involved,” he says. “Including the Changeling.”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Why not?” It’s Henry who answers. “They shed their powers, their entire being as an Underling, and then possess their victim’s memories, their feelings toward their family. They grow up with their siblings, they love their parents—until one day…”
“They can’t,” Will says, glancing at his father, his expression pitying. “When their memories of their previous life are returnedto them by Morana—when they once again become an Underling, fully—they’re forced to turn on the people they love the most.”
Lord Bludgrave tugs on his shirt collar, clearing his throat. “I’ve heard quite enough of this nonsense,” he says, pulling his robe tighter around himself. He dips his head curtly, avoiding looking Killian in the eye as he adds, “I’ll speak with you tomorrow.” And without another word, Lord Bludgrave practically flees the conservatory, slamming the door behind him.
“What was that about?” I ask, staring at the powdery white footprints he left along the garden path.
Will looks at me as if whatever he’s about to say will split the earth beneath us. “My father’s brother was a Changeling,” he says, wincing.
I can tell by the look on his face that he knows what I’m thinking, because he reaches for me almost instinctively, but I take a step back, shaking my head. “What happened to no more secrets?”
Despite the muggy air, a chill sweeps through the conservatory.
“I didn’t consider it to be vital information,” Will says, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
I laugh, but the sound is hollow. “There’s another kind of Underling—an Underling who takes not just someone’s appearance but a person’slifefor their own—and you didn’t think to tell me?”
Killian clears his throat. “It was an oversight on my part, as well,” he admits, scratching his mustache. “Changelings are so rare, and it’s a bit of a sensitive subject for Silas.”
Will looks as if he wants to apologize, but I hold up a hand, turning to Killian instead. “What happened? Why doesn’t he want to talk about the possibility of a Changeling attacking me?”
Killian’s throat bobs, and he tugs at his shirt collar, casting an uneasy glance at Will and Henry before saying, “When Silas was sixteen, his brother slaughtered their family—their parents, and their brother and sister. He would have killed Silas, too, but…” Killian hesitates. “Silas drove a blade through his heart.”
I think about Owen. Surely, he wouldn’t come after a member of our family directly. After all, he didn’t actually compel Father to stab himself. Father chose to take his own life rather than to let the Underlings use him against me. But, if Owen were to attack one of us—if he were to come for our mother, our siblings—would I have the strength to do what must be done? Could I kill my own brother?
Where I felt contempt, even pity, for Lord Bludgrave after everything that happened, now all I feel is empathy. Watching your sibling slaughter your family—being the one to take their life in the end—must change a person, and I admire Lord Bludgrave now, for having the courage to start a family of his own. To fight to protect them. And how terrifying the thought of losing Annie to the Underlings must have been for him, given his past.
“There’s something else,” Killian says, thick rivulets of smoke unfurling from his cigar. “I’ve received a message.” He hesitates, glancing at the door, as if he expects Lord Bludgrave to come back at any moment. “We’re protected, here, because of various wards Will and his mother have placed around the conservatory, as well as the pack of wolves that patrol the area at their command. Still”—Killian lowers his voice—“I’ve recently learned of”—he hesitates—“findingsthat were passed through the channels of communication in an attempt to root out a spy within the Order.”
My head spins. Henry, Titus, and I gape at Killian, but Willdoesn’t appear to react. Alarm bells ring in my head, and I whirl to face him. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
Killian coughs, jumping to Will’s defense once more, saying, “I spoke to Will before he came to meet you aboard theStarchaser. I asked him to ensure that the inhabitants of Bludgrave Manor were free of compulsion.”
I glare at Will, my fists clenched at my sides. “How?”
Will meets my gaze with what appears to be great effort. “I persuaded them all to tell me the truth.”
Henry scoffs, his eyes dark. “Even me?”
Will nods slowly, his teeth clenched. “For your own good, yes.”
Henry runs a hand through his hair, over his face. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Well, that’s enough intrigue for me.” He shakes his head, and I think I see tears in his eyes as he turns away. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe there’s a bottle back at the house with my name on it.”
