Changeling (Illustrated) by Roger Zelazny Read Free Book Online

“You’ve been gone. Over a year. A year and a half . . . Almost two. What—happened? Where have you been?”
    “It’s a long story. Here, let me help with that.”
    He took over the unhitching of the team, the rubbing down of the horses in their stalls, their feeding. 
    “ . . . So, when they destroyed my wagon, I had to leave. I was—afraid. I headed south.”
    He barred the barn door. The sun was just losing its final edge.
    “But so long, Mark . . . You never sent us word or anything,” Marakas said.
    “I couldn’t. How’s—how’s mother?”
    Marakas looked away and did not reply. Finally, he pointed toward a small orchard.
    “Over there,” he said at last.
    After a time, Mark asked, “How’d it happen?”
    “In her sleep. It wasn’t bad for her. Come on.”
    They walked toward the orchard. Mark saw the small, rocked-over grave, a part of the shadows and rootwork near one of the larger trees. He halted beside it, looking down.
    “My going away . . . ” he finally said. “That didn’t have anything to do with it—did it?”
    Marakas put a hand on his shoulder.
    “No, of course not. “
    “You never appreciate . . . Till they’re gone.”
    “I know.”
    “That’s why the place is—not the way it used to be?”
    “It’s no secret I’ve been drinking a lot. Yes. My heart hasn’t been in things around here.”
    Mark nodded, dropped to one knee, touched the stones.
    “We could work the place together, now you’re back,” Marakas said.
    “I can’t.”
    “They’ve got another smith now. New fellow.”
    “I didn’t want to do that either. “
    “What will you be doing?”
    “Something new, different. That’s a long story, too. Mother—”
    His voice broke, and he was silent for a long while.
    Finally, “Mark, I don’t think too clearly when I’ve been drinking,” Marakas said, “and I don’t know whether I ought to tell you this now, later or never. You loved her and she loved you, and I don’t know . . . 
    “I guess a man should know, sometime, and you’re a man now, and things ’d of been a lot different without you. We wanted a kid, see?”
    Mark rose slowly.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m not your father. She’s not your mother. Natural-like, I mean.”
    “I don’t understand . . . ”
    “We never had any of our own that lived. It was a sad thing. So when we had a chance to make a home for a baby, we took it.”
    “Then, who were my natural parents?”
    “I don’t know. It was right after the war—”
    “I was orphaned?”
    “I don’t think so. I couldn’t understand all the wizard’s fancy talk. But they couldn’t bring themselves to kill old Devil Det’s lad, so they sent him someplace far away and got you in exchange. He called you a changeling. That’s all I know. We were so glad to take you. Mel’s life was a lot happier than it would have been otherwise. Mine, too. I hope that doesn’t change anything between us. But I felt it was time for you to know.”
    Mark embraced him.
    “You wanted me,” he said, a little later. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
    “It’s good to see you again. Let’s go back to the house. There’s some food and stuff in the wagon.”
     
    After dinner, they finished a bottle of wine and Marakas grew sleepy. Shortly after he had retired, Mark returned to his shed. They should all be circling high above now, he realized, bearing the additional equipment he needed, awaiting the signal to bring it to him. He carried the unit he had assembled earlier to a large, open area, from which he transmitted the necessary orders.
    The dark bird-shapes began drifting down out of the sky, blotting out stars, their outlines growing to vast proportions. He smiled.
    It took him several hours to unload the equipment and convey most of it to the barn. He was bone-tired when he had finished. He sent all but one of these products of his assembly lines flying back to his city in the south.