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Switched, Page 8

Amanda Hocking


  When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining brightly above us. I had curled up on the seat with my knees pressed against my chest, so my whole body felt sore and achy. I looked around, then I sat up and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of my neck.

  “I thought you were going to sleep the whole ride,” Finn said.

  “How far away are we?” I yawned and slouched low in the seat, resting my knees against the dashboard.

  “Not far.”

  The scenery had started giving way to tall tree-lined bluffs. The car rolled up and down through the hills and valleys, and it really was stunningly beautiful. Eventually Finn slowed and we turned, driving to the top of a bluff. Soon the road curved down again, winding among the trees. Through them I could see the Mississippi River cutting through the bluffs.

  A large metal gate blocked our path, but when we reached it, a guard nodded at Finn and waved us on. Once we were through, I saw beautiful houses dotting the bluffs.

  They were all heavily obscured by trees, which gave me an odd sensation that there were more homes than I could actually see. But every one of them appeared luxurious and perfectly positioned to make the best of the view.

  We pulled up in front of an opulent mansion perched precariously on the edge of a bluff. It was pure white, with long vines growing up over it beautifully. The back, which faced the river, was made entirely of windows, but it seemed to be held up by weak supports. While stunningly gorgeous, the house looked as if it could fall off the edge at any moment.

  “What’s this?” I took a break from gaping at the house to look back at Finn.

  He smiled in the way that sent shivers through me. “This is it. Welcome home, Wendy.”

  I had come from money, but it had never been anything like this. This was aristocratic. Finn walked me to the house, and I couldn’t believe that I’d truly come from this. I had never felt so small or ordinary in my entire life.

  With a house like this, I had expected a butler to answer the door. Instead, it was just a kid. He looked about my age, with sandy hair cascading across his forehead. He was very attractive, but that made sense, because I couldn’t believe that anything ugly ever came from a house like this. It was too perfect.

  He seemed confused and surprised at first, but when he saw Finn, an understanding came to him and he smiled broadly.

  “Oh, my God. You must be Wendy.” He opened the massive front door so we could come in.

  Finn let me go in first, which made me nervous, and I felt embarrassed with the way this kid smiled at me, especially considering my pajamas and bruised cheek. He was dressed like any other normal kid I had gone to school with, at least in the private schools, and I found that weird. As if it would be more natural for him to run around in a tuxedo first thing in the morning.

  “Um, yeah,” I mumbled awkwardly.

  “Oh, sorry, I’m Rhys.” He touched his chest, gesturing to himself, and turned back to Finn. “We weren’t expecting you this soon.”

  “Things happen,” Finn explained noncommittally.

  “I’d really love to stay and talk, but I just came home for lunch, and I’m already running late on getting back to school.” Rhys glanced around and looked at us apologetically. “Elora is down in the drawing room. You can get yourself there, right?”

  Finn nodded. “I can.”

  “All right. Sorry to rush out like this.” Rhys smiled sheepishly and picked up the messenger bag lying by the front door. “It was really nice meeting you, Wendy. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

  Once he hurried out the door, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. The floors were marble, and a giant crystal chandelier hung above us. From where I stood, I could see the breathtaking view through the windowed back wall of the house. It was floor-to-ceiling glass, and all I could see were the tops of trees and the river plummeting below us. It was enough to give me vertigo, and I was on the other side of the house.

  “Come on.” Finn walked ahead of me, turning down a decadently furnished hall, and I scampered after him.

  “Who was that?” I whispered, as if the walls could hear me. They were lined with pictures, a few of which I recognized as being painted by master painters.

  “Rhys.”

  “Yeah, I know, but . . . is he my brother?” I asked.

  “No,” Finn replied. I waited for more, but apparently that was all he would say on the subjet.

  Abruptly he turned and entered a room. It was the corner of the house, so two of the walls were entirely glass. One interior wall had a fireplace, and hanging above it was the portrait of an attractive older gentleman. Books lined the other interior wall. Elegant antique furniture filled the room, and a velvet chaise lounge sat poised in front of the fireplace.

  A woman sat on a stool in the corner, her back to us. Her dress was dark and flowing, just like the hair that hung down her back. A large canvas was set on the easel before her. The painting was only partially finished, but it appeared to be some kind of fire, with dark smoke filtering over broken chandeliers.

  She continued painting for several minutes while we stood there. I glanced over at Finn, but he just shook his head, trying to quiet me before I voiced a complaint. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood rigidly straight, reminding me of a soldier.

  “Elora?” Finn said cautiously, and I got the sense that she intimidated him. This was as unnerving as it was surprising. He didn’t seem like he could be intimidated by anyone.

  When she turned to look at us, I forgot to breathe. She was much older than I had expected, in her fifties probably, but there was something stunningly elegant and beautiful about her, particularly her large dark eyes. In her youth she had probably been unbearably attractive. As it was, I could hardly believe that she was real.

  “Finn!” Her voice was angelic and clear, and her surprise was endearing. With a graceful move, she swiftly stood up, and Finn did a small bow to her. It confused me, but I clumsily tried to copy it, and this caused her to laugh. She looked at Finn, but gestured to me. “This is her?”

  “Yes. It is.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. He had brought me here, and I was starting to realize that I must have been a very special request.

  When she moved, she looked even more poised and regal. The length of her skirt swirled around her feet, making it seem as if she floated rather than walked.

  Once in front of me, she inspected me carefully. She seemed to disapprove of my pajamas, especially the dirt stains on my knees I had sustained during the fight, but it was the bruise on my face that caused her to purse her lips.

  “Oh, my.” Her eyes widened with surprise, but her expression lacked anything resembling concern. “What happened?”

  “Vittra,” Finn answered with the same contempt he had used when speaking that term before.

  “Oh?” Elora raised an eyebrow. “Which ones?”

  “Jen and Kyra,” Finn said.

  “I see.” Elora stared off for a minute, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. Sighing tiredly, she looked to Finn. “You’re sure it was only Jen and Kyra?”

  “I believe so,” Finn said, thinking hard. “I didn’t see any signs of others, and they would’ve called for backup, had there been any to call. They were quite insistent on taking Wendy. Jen got violent with her.”

  “I can see that.” Elora looked back at me. “Just the same, you are lovely.” She sounded almost awed by me, and I felt a blush redden my cheeks. “It’s Wendy, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smiled nervously at her.

  “What an ordinary name for such an extraordinary girl.” She looked displeased for a moment, and then turned to Finn. “Excellent work. You may be excused while I talk to her. Stay close by, though. I’ll call when I need you.”

  Finn did another small bow before leaving the room. His level of reverence made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how to act around her.

  “I’m Elora, and I won’t expect you to call me any
different. I know you still have so much to get accustomed to. I remember when I first came back.” She smiled and gave a light shake of her head. “It was a very confusing time.” I nodded, unsure what else to do as she gestured expansively to the room. “Sit. We have much to talk about.”

  “Thanks.” Uncertainly, I took a seat on the edge of the sofa, afraid that if I really sat down on it I would break it or something.

  Elora went to the chaise lounge, where she lay on her side, letting her dress flow around her. She propped her head up with her hand and watched me with intense fascination. Her eyes were dark and beautiful, but there was something familiar about them. They reminded me of a wild animal trapped in a cage.

  “I’m not sure if Finn has explained it to you, but I am your mother,” Elora said.

  EIGHT

  family

  It was impossible. I wanted to correct her. There must be some mistake. Nothing as stunning and elegant as that could spawn me. I was awkward and impulsive. Her hair was like silk, and as it had been pointed out to me before, my hair was like a Brillo pad. I couldn’t be related to her.

  “Ah. I see he did not,” Elora said. “From your bewildered expression, I take it you don’t believe me. But let me assure you, there is no mistaking who you are. I personally chose the Everly family for you and delivered you to them myself. Finn is the best tracker we have, so there is no way you could be anyone else but my daughter.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I didn’t mean to question you. I just . . .”

  “I understand. You’re still used to your normal human way of being. That will all change soon. Did Finn explain anything to you about Trylle?”

  “Not really,” I admitted carefully, afraid that I might get him in trouble.

  “I’m certain you have many questions, but let me explain everything to you, and if you still have questions, you can ask me when I’m done.” Elora had a coldness to her voice, and I doubted I’d ever be able to question her on anything.

  “Trylle are, to the layman, trolls, but that term is antiquated and demeaning, and as you can tell, it doesn’t do us justice at all.” Elora gestured to the expanse of the room, with all its grace and luxury, and I nodded. “We are beings closely related to humans, but more in tune with ourselves. We have abilities, intelligence, and beauty that far surpass that of humans.

  “There are two important distinctions to our lifestyle as Trylle that separate us from the humans,” Elora continued. “We want to live a quiet life communing with the earth and ourselves. We work to strengthen our abilities and use them to better our lives, to protect ourselves and the things around us. We devote our entire lives to this. Förening exists only to preserve and enhance the Trylle way of life.

  “The other distinction is how we maintain this lifestyle, although it isn’t that different, really.” She looked thoughtfully out the window. “Human children have their schools, but these places prepare them for a life of servitude. That’s not what we want. We want a life of complete and total freedom. That is why we have changelings.

  “The changeling practice dates back hundreds, maybe thousands of years.” Elora looked at me gravely, and I gulped back the growing nausea in my belly. “Originally we were forest dwellers, far less . . . industrialized than you see now. Our children were prone to starvation and medical problems, and we did not have an adequate educational system. So we’d leave our babies in place of human children so they would have the benefits that only a human childhood could offer, then when they were old enough they would come back to us.

  “That practice evolved because we evolved. Changelings were healthier, more educated, and wealthier than the Trylle counterparts that stayed behind. Eventually, every child born became a changeling. Of course, now we could easily match the benefits of the human population, but to what end? In order to maintain our current level of existence, we’d have to leave the solace of the compound and spend our lives doing menial jobs. That simply would not do.

  “And so we leave our children with the most sophisticated, wealthiest human families. The changelings live a childhood that is the best this world has to offer, and then return with an inheritance from their host families that infuses our society with wealth. That, of course, isn’t the only goal, but it is a large part of how we can live like this. The money you obtain from your host family will support you for the rest of your life.”

  “Wait. I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to interrupt, but . . .” I licked my lips and shook my head. “I just need to clarify a few points.”

  “By all means,” Elora said, but venom tinged her voice.

  “When I was a baby, you gave me to strangers to raise me so I could have a good education, a good childhood, and I would bring money back. Is that right?”

  “Yes.” Elora raised an eyebrow, daring me to question this.

  I wanted to yell so badly I was shaking. But I was still afraid of her. She looked like she could snap me in half with her mind, so I just twisted my thumb ring and nodded. She had dumped me off on a crazy woman who tried to murder me, just because Elora never wanted to work and needed cash.

  “Shall I continue?” Elora asked without even trying to mask the condescending tone in her voice. I nodded meekly. “I don’t even remember what I was saying.” She waved her hand in irritation. “If you have any other questions, I suppose you can ask them now.”

  “What are the Vittra?” I asked, trying to distract myself from how angry I was with her. “I don’t understand who they are or what they wanted with me.”

  “Förening is populated with Trylle.” Elora extended her arm in a wide gesture. “The term Trylle is a distinction similar to a tribe. We are trolls, and over the years, the troll population has been dwindling. Our numbers used to be great, but now there are less than a million of us on the entire planet.

  “We are one of the largest tribes left, but we are not the only one,” Elora continued. “The Vittra are a warring faction, and they are forever looking to pick off some of us. Either by turning us to their side, or simply by getting rid of us.”

  “So the Vittra want me to live with them?” I wrinkled my nose. “Why? What could I do for them?”

  “I am the Queen.” She paused, letting me take this in. “You are the Princess. You are my only child, the last of my legacy.”

  “What?” I felt my jaw drop.

  “You are the Princess,” Elora explained with a condescending smile. “You will one day be Queen, and being the leader of Trylle carries great weight.”

  “But if I’m not here, won’t you just find a replacement? I mean, there’s going to be a Queen here even if I’m not,” I said, scrambling to make sense of this all.

  “There is more to it than that. We are not all created equal,” Elora went on. “Trylle are far more gifted than the others. You have already tapped into persuasion, and you have the potential for much more. Vittra are lucky to have any abilities. Adding you to their ranks would greatly add to their power and influence.”

  “You’re saying I’m powerful?” I raised a sardonic eyebrow.

  “You will be,” Elora amended. “That is why you need to live here, to learn our ways so you can take your rightful place.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and ran my hand along my pajama pants.

  None of this seemed real or made sense. The idea of myself as a Queen was completely absurd. I barely managed to pass for an awkward teenager.

  “Finn will be staying to watch over you. Since they’re looking for you, added protection would be prudent.” Elora ran her hand over her skirt, not looking at me. “I’m sure you have many more questions, but you’ll get the answers over time. Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?”

  “Wait,” I said, my voice small and uncertain. She raised her head, looking at me with disdain. “Just . . . um . . . where’s my father?”

  “Oh.” Elora looked away from me and stared out the window. “Dead. I’m sorry. It happened sho
rtly after you were born.”

  Finn had promised me a different life where I belonged, but really, it seemed to be the exact same life with different trappings. My mother here seemed almost as cold as my fake mom, and in either life, my dad was dead.

  “Also, I don’t have any money.” I shifted uneasily.

  “Of course you don’t. You probably won’t have access to your trust fund until you’re twenty-one, but with persuasion, you can get it sooner. Finn tells me you’re very advanced with that.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “No. I don’t even have a trust fund.”

  “I specifically chose the Everlys because of their wealth,” Elora said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, I know you chose them for their money, because it certainly wasn’t for their mental health.” I lowered my eyes, realizing I had been smart with her, but quickly plowed through it.

  “My dad killed himself when I was five, so none of his insurance paid out. My mom never worked a day in her life, and she’s been in a mental institution for the past eleven years, which has eaten a lot of her funds. Not only that, we’ve moved around a lot and wasted tons of money on houses and tuition. We’re not poor by any means, but I don’t think we’re anywhere near the kind of rich you think we are.”

  “Stop saying ‘we.’ They’re not part of you,” Elora snapped and sat up. “What are you talking about? The Everlys were one of the wealthiest families in the country. You couldn’t have bled them completely dry.”

  “I don’t know how much money we—they—have, but we don’t . . . er . . . I didn’t live like they were that rich.” I was almost shouting in frustration. “And you weren’t listening, I had a terrible childhood. My fake mother tried to kill me!”

  Elora seemed more shaken by my confession that my family wasn’t loaded than she was about Kim trying to kill me. She sat very still for a moment, then took a deep breath.

  “Oh. So she was one of those.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I pressed, and by now I was livid. I couldn’t believe the casual, callous air that she had about my attempted murder. “‘One of those’?”