Changeling (7 page)

We were there. Wherever “there” was. And I was still alive.

CHAPTER 6

 
 
 
I lay where I'd been dumped. I didn't have the strength to move. I didn't want to open my eyes. With any luck, whatever had snatched me from the Park would think I'd fainted and leave me alone.

Fat chance. Something poked me in the side. Hard.

“Ow,” I said.

Ah, you
are
awake.
The voice was in my head, not my ears, which was icky.
Sit up and let me see you.

This didn't sound like I was about to be eaten. So why had I been snatched? Witches sometimes stole mortals to comb their hair and fetch water in sieves, but witches didn't talk in your head. Could it be a dragon, maybe, wanting someone to clean his cave? Only one way to find out. I sat up and opened my eyes.

A man-shaped supernatural was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, his hands on his knees and his head tipped to one side like a bird.

Here's where mortal curiosity comes in handy. Instead of pitching a fairy fit, like normal Folk presented with something they didn't recognize, I studied him. Bright black eyes, long, straight black hair tied back in a ponytail, bare feet, black pants under a black turtle-neck. No wings or claws now, which meant he must be a shapechanger. His nose was the giveaway, though. It was about a mile long, red, and pointed like a needle.

Long nose, bare feet, mind-speaker, shapechanger. Put it all together, it spells tengu. Japanese mountain spirit, trickster, thief. Hates priests, likes gold. There was something else, too, but I couldn't remember what.

Wonderful
, the tengu buzzed in my head.
I don't suppose she's ever combed her hair in her life, or washed her feet. And that look of sulky suspicion! Perfect! Simply perfect!

“Thank you,” I said, and yes, I sounded suspicious. I
was
suspicious. Also puzzled.

Sarcasm! Wonderful!
The tengu rubbed its long hands together.
Snatching you was a risk, but I'm glad I did it. Just think. The naughtiest child in New York, and she's mine, mine, mine!

“The naughtiest child in New York?” I echoed stupidly.

The sheer unfairness of this blew my mind. “That wasn't the way it was at all!” I shouted. “You don't know anything about it, you, you long-nosed creep!”

I shut my mouth hard, but it was too late. The tengu's head got small and feathery, his nose developed a sharp point, his beady eyes got even beadier. In a breath, I was facing a man with a raven's head. His beak dropped open and he let out a bunch of little caws. After a terrifying moment, I realized he was laughing.

Perfect!
he cawed joyfully.
Such exquisite rudeness! And after I saved your life! The award is mine!

“Award?” I asked blankly.

 
He told me to call him Carlyle.

Country mountain spirits are called after the mountains they live on; New York mountain spirits are called after their buildings. Carlyle lived in the golden spire on top of the Carlyle Hotel. He'd modeled his nest on a traditional Japanese room, with rice straw mats on the floor and paper walls. It was sparsely furnished with a lacquered chest, a low wooden table, a scroll painting of a mountain in the clouds, and a lacquer shelf that held a peony in an iron vase and a very beautiful blue-and-green china horse. I saw no windows to escape out of and no visible doors.

The thing I'd forgotten about tengus, of course, was that they collect naughty children. From Carlyle's point of view, he hadn't been rescuing me from the Wild Hunt at all. He'd been bagging a prize specimen.

Well, I wasn't anybody's specimen. I was the official mortal changeling of Central Park, and I needed to get back there and straighten things out. Sure, the Green Lady had exiled me, but I knew there had to be some way around it. In the story of the Hippie Chick, for instance, the wicked witch had locked this girl with superlong hair in a penthouse with no door. When the girl found a boyfriend anyway, the witch cut off her hair and blinded her boyfriend and sent her into the suburbs to be a single mom. But the Hippie Chick still managed to get back to the City and live happily ever after. If she could do that, plus restore her boyfriend's sight, I figured I could live in Central Park again under the Lady's protection.

First I needed to get away from the tengu.

It wouldn't be too hard to escape from a room with paper walls. All I had to do was wait until Carlyle went to sleep or something, rip open a door, find the stairs, and walk west until I got to the Park. In the meantime, I realized I was starving.

And then I realized that I'd left Satchel behind in my room.

It was like taking a step that wasn't there. I closed my eyes tight and breathed very slowly through my nose. Satchel was more than a portable pantry. Satchel was the only magic I had. And I was still hungry.

Carlyle gave an anxious squawk.
You're not going to faint or anything, are you? I hate it when my naughty children faint or throw up. Such a mess, and no fun at all, not like crying and screaming.

There's nothing like being annoyed to stop you from wanting to cry. “I'm hungry,” I said. “Do you starve your naughty children, or just torture them?”

Naughty children get sent to bed without supper,
he buzzed primly.

“In that case, I'll faint for sure and probably never wake up again.”

Carlyle slid open one of the paper walls, darted through the opening, and slid it shut behind him, squawking crabbily. I rushed to the opposite wall and hit it as hard as I could. It gave a little, but it didn't come close to tearing. I couldn't kick through it, either, or slide it. I worked my way around the nest, poking, punching, pushing. Nothing budged, not even the panel the tengu had used.

I was frustrated, but I wasn't discouraged. Escaping from a bogeyman wasn't supposed to be easy. Naughty children from Outside exist for bogeymen to torture. But most naughty children don't have my training.
I
knew somewhere in here there had to be a charm or an enchanted cockroach or a trail of breadcrumbs that would help me find the way out. I just had to keep my eyes open and be ready to seize the opportunity when it came.

The wall slid open and Carlyle stalked in carrying a bowl of rice covered with shiny brown strips.

Grilled eel,
he buzzed in my head.
Very good for you. Do you know how to use chopsticks?

He was obviously hoping that I hated grilled eel, or at the very least that I'd have to eat it with my fingers. Smugly, I picked up the chopsticks, arranged them in my right hand, and dug enthusiastically into the brown mess. I'd had grilled eel before—it was a favorite with the tanuki who tutored me in Japanese Folk lore, language, and culture. I liked it okay if it was a little crispy and the sauce wasn't too sweet.

This eel was soggy and much too sweet, but I ate it anyway. Carlyle looked irritated and began to yatter on about the other bogeymen and how awful the contest was going to be—trying to get me to cry and scream, I guess. Since his voice was in my head, I couldn't exactly ignore him, but I managed not to react until he mentioned the name Eloise.

The eel caught in my throat. Eloise is the Genius of the Plaza Hotel and official Patroness of Spoiled Brats everywhere. According to Astris, she was ten times more destructive than a boggart—in other words, nobody I really wanted to meet.

Carlyle's nose twitched happily.
Oh, you've heard of Eloise, have you? Then you won't be surprised when you
meet her, but never mind: I have another surprise for you. I love surprises. Don't you?

“No,” I said.

This is a
good
surprise. You'll like it.
He smiled unpleasantly.
Would you like to see it now?

“I'm not finished eating.” I snatched up the bowl and stuffed more eel into my mouth. I wished for the Pooka to rescue me, but it was an empty wish: His tail hair was in my jeans back at the Castle.

Don't think about the Pooka
, I told myself.
Think about escape.
Maybe if I could persuade Carlyle that I wasn't as naughty as he thought, he'd let me go.

I swallowed my mouthful, put the bowl on the straw matting with the chopsticks laid carefully across it, and bowed deeply, as the tanuki had taught me.

“Honorable tengu,” I said in my politest Japanese, “I am ashamed. My words and actions toward one who has so generously saved my miserable life and given me delicious grilled eel have been nothing less than criminal.”

This speech did not have the effect I was aiming for. Carlyle screamed a curse that raised a blister on the back of my neck.
Horrible child! I don't have time for tricks,
he screeched in my head.
There are three hundred bogeymen and their naughty children coming. I have preparations to make, plans to lay. I need to find filet mignon for Eloise and raisins for her turtle, Skipperdee. If you won't cooperate, I might as well just take you back where I found you. I
don't think the Wild Hunt will care if you're a bit late.

“I was just kidding,” I said hastily. “I'm bad. Look, I'll prove it.” I grabbed the china horse and heaved it at Carlyle's head. Flexing its wings, it soared past him and landed, prancing, on the lacquer cabinet.

Ha!
Carlyle cawed triumphantly.
Now you show your true colors! I expect you thought you were being clever. All naughty children think that way. But you can't outsmart me, young lady, any more than you could outsmart the Genius of Central Park. Did you actually think you were going to break your geas and get away with it?

It was time to set the record straight. “It wasn't my fault,” I said. “I didn't know I was under a geas. I didn't even know about the dance until Peg Powler told me about it. She set me up. I didn't know I was doing anything wrong.”

Carlyle rubbed his long hands together.
Perfect! Classic! Denies responsibility, displaces blame, regrets only getting caught!
He bounced up onto his bare feet.
Well, I've got an awards ceremony to prepare for. And you've got a surprise waiting for you. Follow me.

If there had been anywhere to go, I would have run. If there had been any point in fighting him, I would have fought. But there wasn't. I let the tengu drag me to the paper wall. He pulled open a panel, shoved me stumbling into a foul-smelling darkness, and slid the wall shut behind me.

CHAPTER 7

 
 
 
The smell was the first thing I noticed. Foul, cold, and unnatural, it made my eyes water and caught at the back of my throat. I'd never smelled anything quite like it, not even when a squirrel died in the Castle basement. I coughed and breathed through my mouth until I got used to it enough to notice other things. Like the cold. And the dark. And the humming.

Soft and even, it vibrated in my skull, buzzing a little, like a snore. I quickly started to run through the ten identifying signs of a closet monster, but couldn't remember any further than number six (the smell of old socks).

Well, whatever it was, it was better for me to find it than for it to find me first.