Changeling (23 page)

‘Thank you, Ella,’ he said in a slurred whisper.

‘Do you want some more water?’ she asked, moving to retrieve the glass.

‘Whisky,’ he said.

‘I don’t think that’s a good—’

‘Whisky,’ he hissed, raising his head in her direction.

She would have smiled if the sight of his face were not so horrific. Both eyes were swollen to such an extent that even if they had worked, they could not have seen much. His nose was a red mess
too: one nostril had almost been torn off, and it hung down like a ragged piece of gristle. It was his mouth that was almost too horrible to look at – his lips had split open at several
points, and the bottom one was purple and swollen to such an extent that his jaw could not close properly.

‘Whisky,’ he said again. ‘Please, Ella.’

She went to the pantry and grabbed a bottle from one of the boxes. Hurrying back to the kitchen, she unscrewed the metal lid, letting it fall to the floor where it skittled around before coming
to a halt under the chair. She poured the old man a large glass, reaching forward and guiding it into his hand.

Frank raised the glass to his lips and took a gulp, wincing at the burning pain it caused to his lips and gums. Lowering the glass, he dug around at the front of his mouth with his tongue,
stopped and spat a discoloured, bloody tooth on to the floor. He finished off the rest of the glass and held it up in the air, waving for it to be filled again. Ella obliged and half filled the
vessel again with golden liquid that the old man downed in two or three mouthfuls.

She watched as he tipped his head back, some of the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

‘What happened?’

‘Ask your friend,’ the old man said, nodding his head in Marcus’s direction. ‘Oh, he didn’t stay to see the finale, but he was here all right.’ The old man
lifted a trembling hand to wipe at his lips, wincing as he did so.

‘Marcus came back to help,’ Ella said, taking the hand and holding it in her own. ‘Please, tell us what happened.’

‘Jurgen,’ the old man said as if that one word was all she needed to have as an explanation.

He tipped the glass again, but this time when he discovered it was empty he did not ask for a refill. Ella watched as the old man’s forehead creased and he leaned forward, trying to stand.
The unexpected movement caught Ella off guard and she grabbed the old man by the arm to steady him.

‘Where’s Trey?’ the old man cried, struggling to his feet. ‘Where’s my nephew?’

‘You need to sit down, Frank. We need to get you an ambulance.’

‘Where is he?’ he asked again.

‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘The pack dropped him off here this morning. I thought he was with you.’

‘He left. Came to see you, you and your
friends
down there by the lake.’

The old man was still struggling to speak clearly, but Ella was struck by how much he had rallied since she’d given him the whisky. She looked at the blood on the walls and floor, and
reasoned that Frank’s injuries must look a whole lot worse than she’d first guessed. Even so, she had to admit it – Frank Laporte was one tough old customer.

‘Frank, why does Jurgen think Trey is a danger to him? Why would he beat you like this?’

‘He’s a mad dog, Ella.’ He shook his head, lifting his hand in the air and making a peculiar waving motion with his fingers. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things to
Trey. This is all my fault. All my stupid fault!’

‘Frank?’

‘Jurgen has guessed that Trey has a secret.’

‘A secret?’

‘Nothing that would harm your precious pack, but yes, Trey has a secret. Jurgen thinks that my nephew is part of some plot to try and take over the pack.’ A short, derisive snort
escaped the man. ‘As if the kid could give a damn about the pack!’ The old man went still. ‘No, Trey has a destiny much greater than that, and thanks to me, he’s thrown away
the one thing that can help to protect him from those that would do him harm. People like Jurgen.’ The old man began to move forward, gently trying to push Ella’s supporting hands away.
‘I have to find it somehow. I have to find it and get Trey away from this place.’

There was a silence in the kitchen, broken only by the dripping of the tap.

‘The necklace,’ Ella said eventually.

Frank stopped. ‘What? What do you know about it?’

‘I saw him remove it and throw it into the woods. Last night before the Change. I saw him take it off and hurl it into the trees at the top of the ridge out there. I remember thinking at
the time that it was an odd thing to do, and how upset he seemed. I would have asked him about it, but the next thing I knew, the Change was upon us.’

Frank turned his head in her direction. ‘In the woods? Is there any chance that you might be able to find it again? It’s very important, Ella.’

She looked down at the old man, his milky eyes staring back at her unblinkingly. She replayed the scene when she’d watched Trey in the woods, fixing his and her location in her head and
recalling the direction in which he’d flung the silver chain. In her mind’s eye she traced the arc of the object as it flew out of his hand towards a group of beech trees off to her
right. There had been no sound when it landed, and she guessed that it must have fallen in the leaves near the base of the trees.

‘Ella?’

Frank’s voice pulled her out of the woods, and the hint of a smile played at the edges of her mouth.

‘I think I could find it,’ she said. ‘But I’m not going to – not right now. If Jurgen has become . . . unhinged, if he’s responsible for doing this to you,
and if he’s a danger to Trey, I think the best thing to do is to find him and try to—’

‘There won’t be any talking to him now!’ Frank’s voice boomed, taking Ella by surprise and making her jump in alarm. ‘He’s flipped his lid. He’s beyond
all reason now.’

‘He’s right, Ella,’ Marcus said in a low voice.

Frank started forward, wincing with the effort. He held out a hand for her to help him. ‘That amulet is the only hope Trey has. Give me a hand, will you?’

‘Frank, I think that you should sit down. Even better, I think that you should go and lie down while we—’

‘Shut up and help me, or leave. They’re the options right now, girl. Choose.’He held his arm up to her and it wavered in the air as though even this simple act was almost
beyond him.

She shook her head in disbelief, but reluctantly reached out for his arm.

He gently took her by the shoulders and turned her body so that she was facing away from him. Placing his hand on her right shoulder he gave her the slightest of nudges, and they walked out of
the kitchen and down the hallway towards the front door, slowing down and treading carefully as they passed the prostrate figure of Billy on the way. Ella glanced down at the little animal again,
for once thankful that the old man could not see. She let out a small sigh, and as if sensing what had caused her to do so, the old man gently squeezed her shoulder for a second.

‘Let’s go and find that amulet, Ella,’ he said.

They were almost at the wall of trees that signalled the beginning of the forest. Frank’s breathing sounded more ragged and strained. He was not in great shape anyway,
and the beating that he had taken earlier had clearly left him in an even frailer state.

Ella stopped, turned to face the blind man and removed his hand from her shoulder.

‘This is about as far as you go, Frank.’ He started to protest, but she continued in a firm voice. ‘I should not have let you come. Please. I want you to sit down here with
Marcus, and get your breath back. I’ll go ahead and try to find the chain. I’m the only one that saw Trey throw it, and it makes sense for me to go and look for it alone. If I find it,
I’ll bring it straight back here to you.’

The old man shook his head, but his chest heaved with the effort that he had already put in. He pointed a finger in Ella’s direction. ‘You want to leave me here with one of the men
that tried to kill me?’

‘Frank.’

He sighed, shaking his head in defeat. ‘Go on then. Go.’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ she said, nodding at Marcus. She paused, watching as the younger man carefully helped Frank down on to the grass. Then she turned her back on them
and entered the woods.

She ran through the trees. It was further than she remembered, but eventually she slowed as she spotted the large oak tree up ahead. She ran her fingers across the rough, sharp
bark as she rounded the trunk. She stopped on the far side, leaning out and looking back in the direction she had just walked, replaying the scene from the previous evening to pinpoint the exact
location when Trey spun round once he’d realized she was there. When she had it in her head, she came out from the tree and went to stand in the same spot that he had occupied. She looked off
to her left, and saw the birch trees, their bleached bodies looking out of place amongst the grey and brown and green that surrounded them. She ran in their direction, trying to
feel
the
speed of the chain as it tumbled through the air after being thrown. She slowed, imagining the deceleration and fall of the object, knowing that it had to have landed somewhere very close to where
she was now standing.

She let her eyes scan the ground. The leaf mulch was thick here. The ground had not been disturbed in a very long time, and she knew that it would be all too easy to miss the thing that she was
looking for if it had skidded beneath the old and rotting leaves that carpeted the floor. The light under the canopy was not great, and she cursed her luck. Her only real hope of finding the thing
was to catch a glimpse of the sun’s reflection on its surface. She got down on to her haunches and scanned the ground. Nothing. She turned slowly in a circle so that she could take in as much
of the ground about her as possible, but something told her that what she was looking for was up ahead. She faced the birch trees again and started to circle to her left. She’d taken no more
than five or six steps when something caught her eye. She stopped, holding her breath and letting her eyes wander over the surface again. The tiniest glimmer flashed at her through the undergrowth.
She fixed her eyes upon it and crept forward.

She’d been lucky. Most of the necklace was buried, burrowing its way beneath the loose top surface of the forest floor as it skidded to a halt. But a small section had caught upon a small
stick, looping itself around the wood so that it peeked out from beneath the brown carpet.

She bent forward and picked up the chain, letting the full length of it hang from her hand. It was unusually long and she had to hold her hand high above her head so that the small silver amulet
at the bottom could twist and spin before her face. It was a small fist. Pitted and scarred, it looked extremely old. She reached forward with her other hand to take the thing between her thumb and
forefinger, holding it still so she could study it more closely. She felt a cold shudder fork its way down her spine, and realized it was not just the coolness of the air beneath the trees that had
caused it. There was something about the amulet – something that made her want to put the chain over her head and have that silver clenched fist close to her skin. To tuck it away and tell
the old man that she hadn’t been able to—

‘I’ll take that,’ Frank said.

She whirled round to see him standing no more than three metres away, one hand on Marcus’s shoulder, the other stretched out towards her – palm up. She hadn’t heard them
approach. She’d been so caught up with the feelings that the amulet had stirred inside her that she hadn’t noticed them walking up behind her. She shook her head in disbelief, frowning
as she wondered how they could have followed her.

‘How did you . . . ?’

‘Your scent,’ Frank said, letting go of Marcus and taking a step towards her. ‘I couldn’t sit around back there just waiting. Besides, I didn’t know how you’d
react when you found it. So Marcus led us into the woods at the point that you entered, and after that I followed your scent.’

Ella glanced at Marcus, who simply shrugged and nodded in confirmation.

‘You smell good – like coconuts,’ Frank added.

She peered at him through the gloom. His face was in shadow, and in spite of his age and his injuries, she sensed a wolfish menace in him. She looked down again at the chain in her hand.

‘The amulet, Ella,’ Frank said, inclining his head towards the outstretched hand.

They stood like that for a few moments, statue-like amongst the other living statues of the forest.

When she looked up again he was smiling at her through blood-caked lips. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

That same cold shiver pulsed through her again. She wondered what had made her want to keep it. Why she had considered lying to Frank about finding it despite his assertion that it was the only
thing capable of saving Trey right now. She collected the chain into one hand, piling the links on top of one another until she had a small, metallic island in the centre of her palm. She hefted
it, surprised at the weight of the thing, and then stepped forward and carefully transferred the tumbling links from her hand to Frank’s.

He closed his fingers around the chain, a strange look on his face as he did so.

‘If you had any idea how long I have waited to hold this . . .’ His voice trailed off and Ella thought that she could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. But she
didn’t like the way that the old man was clenching the necklace in his fist; the knuckles white with the pressure he was applying. She thought back to what Frank had said in the house –
how the only thing to do would be to reunite Trey and the amulet and get him away from here as soon as possible. Looking at him now, she couldn’t help but wonder if Frank was capable of
giving up the thing clutched so tightly in his hand.

‘What are we going to do now?’ she asked.

‘Hmm?’

‘What’s next, Frank?’

The old man nodded to himself. ‘Now we’re going to save my nephew.’

Trey pushed the door open and stepped inside the cabin, gasping as a wall of hot air met him. He looked around for the source, spotting an oil-filled radiator in one corner
that had been left on. Leaving the door open, he crossed the room to the heater and flicked the switch on the wall to turn it off. Removing his jacket, he hung it over the back of a chair, and
walked over to the small kitchenette where he ran the cold tap, searching the cabinets for a glass.