Changeling

i. the fairy ring

I could hear the footbeats of harts and horses as I ran, stumbling over roots and stones. Just ahead of me was Joana, my twin sister, her long green dress covered in mud. I was dressed in the same color, though I wore trousers. It pleased the queen to see us in matching clothes, though I doubted that would matter for much longer.

Neither of us were dressed to run from the Hunt, however. My feet were bare, having kicked off the soft slippers I wore about a mile back, and Joana had done the same. Both of us were wounded, from rocks under our feet or the thorns and nettles we passed in the woods.

The forest was not kind to those who angered her king and queen.

I knew we didn't have long to get to the fairy ring, that passage between worlds, where we had entered the faelands so long ago. The Hunt was catching up to us, no matter that we'd had a day's head start, and if they caught us...

Well. I didn't want to think about it. I honestly didn't know what sort of creative punishment they would come up with for us, and I didn't want to ever find out.

Joana tripped over a protruding root, falling to her knees. Sage and soot, I wanted to rest, too. We had been on the run for over a day now, barely taking stolen moments to catch our breaths or to drink some water, and I didn't blame her for not wanting to get up.

But it had been her idea to run. It had been her who dragged me away from court on this ridiculous idea, and I wasn't going to let her off so easily.

I limped over to her, wiping the sweat from my face, and looking down at her. We were identical twins, and seeing her was like looking in the mirror.

I wondered if I had that same look of terror in my eyes.

"Come on!" I said, taking her by the arm and dragging her to her feet. "This was your thrice-damned idea in the first place. Don't give up on me!"

With a groan, she allowed me to pull her arm over my shoulder.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she panted, taking a ginger step and wincing.

"We're almost there, Jo." I took most of her weight, and together, we limped forward.

It wasn't my idea, and if it were up to me, I would never have left. But we were here now, and I would no sooner cut off a limb than abandon my twin.

But going this slow, we were never going to make it.

Would it be better to give up? To beg for mercy? Or to pretend we were never running away in the first place, but playing some marvelous joke? A prank? The fairies loved mischief.
One look at Joana's face told me she would never agree to it. She would fight, kicking and screaming, to get home.

Home. What did that even mean, anymore?

Was it that small farmhouse in Michigan? Was it my mother and father? I hadn't seen them in almost ten years, and my thoughts no longer drifted to my childhood.

Home was the dark and sparkling courts of the Unseelie. Home was the kind smile of the queen. Home was a pleased glint in the king's eye.

I guess, though, in the end, home was where Joana was, and I couldn't let her go alone.

Half carrying my sister, we emerged into a clearing where a small creek flowed, and with a flutter in my chest, I knew we were close. It was a familiar sight, after all.

"We're almost there, Jo," I whispered, leading her along.

"Oh my god," she said, wincing at each step. "There it is."

We crossed the flowing water, too close to our destination to bother kneeling for a drink, though I knew she was as desperately thirsty as I was. But the Hunt was approaching, and we couldn't delay.