Through the small mullioned windows in my holding cell, I watched the sun climb to its zenith. I’d been locked away all morning, sitting on a cold, hard floor, terrified and starved. Timothy finally appeared to lead me to the main Hall, where he placed me in the center of the aisle in front of the six current members that made up the village’s voice. John and Viola sat behind me on the right side of the aisle while Gus and Elain took the left. I felt a brief stab of relief that there weren’t more people around to witness my shaming. For by now, there’d be no one who hadn’t heard what was happening; many villagers were likely eagerly awaiting the news outside the doors.
I willed my pulse to steady as Baird, the Chief Elder, caught my eye. He was easily the oldest person in the village: eyes sunken, white hair wispy, and skin hanging from him like leathery hide. My attempt at bravery shattered, and I almost vomited at his feet when he rose, slowly, from the table, speaking in a rich baritone, so at odds with his tired appearance. “Thank you, Timothy.” He dismissed his grandson from my side with a wave.
Timothy strode over to stand in what looked like his usual position, behind the council, tucked away in a corner where he could observe. Baird must be grooming his heir. Lucky him, I thought bitterly.
My legs threatened to buckle as Baird called out my name. “Serena Smith, you stand accused of being a changeling, and therefore, are in part responsible for abducting three children from this village. How do you answer these charges?”
My chin riding high, I spoke the words I’d practiced for hours. “Innocent. I’m not a changeling, and I would never kidnap a child. These accusations are false, made by two people who want to cover up their own crimes by destroying my credibility.”
Hushed conversations and titters spread among the elders. I looked to each of them in turn and held their gaze, willing them to see the truth in my eyes. Baird sat in the middle. To his left sat Nathan—father to Annie Tanner, one of the missing children—and Dr. Fagan, the local surgeon. On Baird’s right sat Castiel, our only mason. Next to him was a farmer by the name of Duncan, and finally, Gertie, the only woman on the council.
Baird continued. “Your accusers are here. Now that you have declared your innocence, we will hear their claim that you are, in fact, a changeling, otherwise known as a demi-fae. I concede the floor to Elain and Gus to air their grievances and put forth evidence supporting their claims.”
The rustle of skirts. A shiver spider-walked down my back, and I knew Elain had arisen first. I refused to look back as she began. “Thank you, Chief Baird.”
Disgust crept under my skin. She spoke with just the right amount of tentativeness, but she couldn’t hide the slight quaver or the breathiness. Not from me; I knew her too well. My stepmother was excited. After all, humiliating me while also being the center of attention—this was Elain’s dream.
My hands curled into fists at the thought.
“Over the years,” she continued, “I’ve tried to do my duty as both wife and mother. I believe I’ve fulfilled my duty to Halvard—gods protect him.”
A pause, to remind them she was grieving the loss of a husband. Nathan and the farmer, Duncan, offered her commiserating looks. The former had lost his daughter, and the latter his wife in childbirth. No surprises there, but I took heart that the others looked unaffected. Maybe this wouldn’t be a total sham of a trial.
Elain hit her stride. “Yet today it pains me to come before you and speak out against my stepdaughter, Serena, for it means I’ve failed as a mother.”
I almost laughed out loud.
“But the abductions have forced my hand. I can no longer ignore her … oddities. I’m ashamed that I haven’t spoken out sooner, but gods help me, I’d grown to love the child.”
I couldn’t help it—a weak rasping chuckle escaped.
Elain paused. I sensed her eyes boring into me, her anger raining down like blows to my head. The elders gave me a few disapproving looks, and I stared down at my clasped hands in a submissive gesture. I couldn’t afford to earn their ill will.
“Please, continue Elain. Although, it might be wise to speed things up a little,” Baird said, his white eyebrows knitting. “Why don’t you tell us what led you to believe that Serena is a changeling?”
“Yes, Chief,” Elain said, stiltedly. This time it was nerves, not excitement making her sound breathy. I hid a smile.
“It was small things at first. A bottomless appetite, her awkwardness, her foul temper, and of course that puberty never seemed to find the girl.”
I cringed, fighting to hide the stiffening of my shoulders and the battle raging inside. My impulse to turn around and fly at her—fists swinging, spitting and clawing—almost got the better of me. Despite this, there remained a tiny separate part of me that marveled at her skills in deceit. She was lying with the truth, which was what made this so much more excruciating.
“At first, I dismissed the signs. I put them down to the child’s loss, and that she’d grown up without a woman in the house.”
Rage roiled in my gut. That evil hag actually had the stones to bring my mother into this.
“But over the past few months, I spotted an odd pattern in her behavior. Whenever a child vanished, Serena went missing for hours at a time. She’d skip her chores and then come back from the forest, irritable and disoriented. When Annie vanished …” Elain wavered masterfully.
My mouth popped open. She was baiting Nathan Tanner with news of his beloved daughter, using his grief as a weapon.
Nathan shifted and leaned forward. “Go on.”
My heart sank. Nathan still looked like the loss was eating him alive. Those purple blemishes under his eyes showed he wasn’t sleeping. The hunched posture, the haunted, hungry gleam in his eyes—it all stank of desperation. He wanted someone to blame for his daughter’s disappearance, and I would be the sacrificial lamb.
The noose tightened about my neck.
“Well, on that day …” Elain paused again.
A dull throbbing started up behind my eyes. The hesitancy and sadness in her voice was perfect. She would play them like a lute. Truthfully, if I hadn’t known they were lies, I’d have believed her too.
“Yes,” Nathan urged.
“Serena arrived back from the forest speaking in tongues. When she came to her senses, I explained what had happened … She grew evasive and called me a liar.”
Elain gave another dramatic pause. I almost sighed, exasperated by the theatrics.
“After that she shut me out, but my concerns didn’t go away. I kept on asking where she’d been and what she remembered, but the only answer I ever got was that she’d been hunting. Yet, I remember that day clearly enough: she wasn’t carrying her bow.”
“Did it not occur to you to tell us about her then?” Nathan snapped.
I couldn’t bear to look behind me, but in my mind’s eye, I saw Elain acting cowed, imploring him to take pity on her with her big doe eyes.
Ugh.
“Of course,” she murmured. “But Halvard convinced me not to. He said it was a touch of the brain fever, and that she’d suffered from it ever since her mother had passed on.”
“This is crazy!”
I whirled around as Viola exploded up out of her chair.
“Please, listen.” Viola looked up at the elders, hands clasped, beseeching them. “I’ve known Serena from the day she came into this world and have seen her almost every day since then. She’s never once exhibited anything close to madness—”
“Enough,” Baird ordered with a short bark. “You will get your moment to speak, but for now, John, I look to you to restrain your wife.”
Viola bristled, but John placed a calming hand on hers. Gently, he pulled her down and Viola sat with a huff.
Baird added, almost lazily, “Elain … continue.”
I turned back to the elders, unable to stomach facing my stepmother as she spun her web of lies.
“Well, you see—” Elain stuttered. “I trusted my husband’s word. So, to my ever-lasting shame, I let the matter go. I’m so sorry, Nathan,” she ended with a little sob.
Pretty, poisonous lies—her voice was even shaking. I tried to smother my panic and push away bleating thoughts. The last thing I needed was to have a breakdown when accused of madness. Perhaps, I should forgive my father for being taken in by this she-demon. This game came to her as easily as breathing; her words carried both weight and conviction.