They tug me along, all talking at once. They tell me stories of seeing a monster in the woods, of making a flower bloom. I ooh and ahh in the right places, until they all settle slightly.
“Miss Alej,” one of them calls, making me turn to see a small girl. Her fiery hair is loose around her shoulders, wavy and untamed. Her mismatched brown and gold eyes are wide with nerves, and her small lips are almost trembling. I can tell from her rounded ears she is part human. Her clothes are almost nothing but rags, and her feet are bare and covered in dust, and so are her legs.
She is a changeling.
Part human, part fae, they are born as one or the other and slowly change as they mature and grow. The only reason they are not tossed into the forest is because they are either hidden away, or they are deemed strong enough to change to fae one day.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I ask, crouching before her. She steps closer, her eyes darting to my silver ones before dropping and then flickering back up, going to my ears as her tiny hand rises and touches her ear.
“Will I ever get pointy ears?” she whispers.
“I don’t know. Everything is possible,” I tell her, and she perks up a little.
“What about silver eyes? I love yours!” she gushes.
I chuckle as she climbs onto my knees and into my lap, and starts twirling my hair and touching my face. I let her. “One day you might.” I laugh. “But I like yours, they are pretty.”
She giggles as I stand, my arms wrapping around her to keep her steady. Her legs tighten around my waist as she continues to play with my ears and hair. “Now, little one, tell me, is anyone hurt?”
She purses her lips as she twiddles my hair before leaning closer. “I’m not supposed to tell.”
“I know, sweetie, but I won’t hurt them, I want to help them. You remember me helping the others?” She nods, and I stroke her hair and rub her back. “I want to help them all.”
She giggles. “Okay, I trust you. Daddy says old man Iloch is sick…but so is my mummy, can you help them both?”
“Your mummy is sick?” I query, as the other kids get tired of waiting and run off into the field to play.
She nods, tears in her eyes now. “She hasn’t got out of bed. Daddy said not to worry, that it will pass…”
“But?” I press, pushing her hair behind her ear.
“But Mummy doesn’t look good.”
“Okay, sweetie, can you show me where you live?”
I place her onto her feet, and she hesitates, looking around before meeting my gaze. “Promise to help Mummy? You won’t hurt her, will you?”
“No, little one, I won’t hurt her. I promise you.”
She nods seriously, acting older than she should be at her age—proof of how they live down here—before her hand darts out, open and waiting, so trustingly. Even though my kind hurt hers, she is trusting my promise. I place my hand in hers and squeeze her tiny one reassuringly as she starts to lead me past the fields and to the huts closest to the forest.
The magic there has infected the ground. It leads to a lot of illnesses for those who live and work down here. But normal viruses are also common, which have been wiped out and are easy to cure, but the queen does not deem them worthy of being cured so they are left to die of a simple virus. Accidents, broken bones, and injuries are a regular occurrence, however, no healer comes down here to help them.
They are left to suffer.
We stop at a hut in the middle, the straw door open to let in a breeze. I know from experience they can be stuffy. Stepping inside the darkened, one-bedroom hut, I spot the woman immediately.
To the left is their kitchen, with a handmade table in front of the stove. Behind that is a double bed and a trunk for clothes. Up above, with a ladder to it, is another bed, probably belonging to the young girl.
The mother is in the double bed, sweating, and her red hair is oily and tossed above her head. Her eyes are blurred—her human eyes. Interesting. It does happen, even though the queen and nobles hate it, when a human gets lost in the woods or is drawn to us. Or vice versa. Some of the dwellers down here are human, much to the queen’s chagrin. She carries out raids every now and again to catch them, but they often have a small amulet or magic source that hides their appearance and human eyes.
She winces when she sees me, but doesn’t fight or stand, she probably doesn’t have the strength. “I always knew this day would come. Please, don’t hurt my child,” she pleads.
“I am not here to hurt anyone,” I tell her. “I am Alejandra, I would like to help.”
“I’ve heard of you,” she whispers, her voice weak before she coughs. The sound is loud and crackling, racking her gaunt frame. She is very sick. The child rushes to her side, passing her a cup of water, which she sips before lying back and turning her head to meet my eyes. “Why? Why do you want to help? You are one of them, a noble. I know what your kind thinks of us.”
“They do not speak for all of us,” I reply, as I step farther in, undo the fastening of my cloak, and throw it onto the back of a chair. “I have many friends who aren’t nobles, and they are better friends than anyone who lives in the glittering throng.”
“Friends?” She laughs bitterly. “You have friends, that’s why you help? You are risking our lives by helping us, not your own, never your own. You are untouchable. This is simply a rebellion against your parents, I bet. One day, you will forget about us and go on with your perfect life up there.”
“Or you could be wrong.” I kneel at her side, searching her eyes. “Not everyone is bad. I do my duty to my people, all my people. You’re one of them, please allow me to heal you.”
She looks at my eyes once again, more awake now. “I remember a silver-haired and silver-eyed girl who used to run the fields all day with the prince.”
I wince, dropping my gaze. “Yes. He was my friend.”
“He was a good child, and he would have been a great leader. He cared for the people, all the people.”
“He did,” I whisper, remembering his strength in the face of the queen’s disgust. Nobles thought it was a ploy to get the lowers’ vote, but I knew the truth. He never wanted to be a prince, but with his station, he knew he could change things. Even then, growing up, he didn’t turn a blind eye to the suffering of others. He made plans to change it and help in any way he could. One day, he would have made a fine king, and maybe under his rule, our people would have prospered.
Before he died.
“He was a good friend, a good person. He was the one who first brought me here, who showed me the truth behind the glittering vale. Who opened my eyes to the people who really needed us. Not for cosmetics or minor healing, but true healing. Our powers are meant to help, not be used as bargaining chips,” I tell her.
She smiles a small smile. “So you do this for him? For his memory?”
“No, I do this for you. And every single person out there who needs my help. I was born with a gift, it should be shared and used properly. I do it because when his blood ran through the streets, your people were the only ones to help. The nobles stood by and watched, wondering what it meant politically. No one helped…but your people.”
She nods, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “I remember that day. I am sorry for your loss.”