The Changeling Read online

  “What have you been doing?” Ivy asked.

  “Not much,” Martha said. “I still go to the stables quite a bit. Fifth grade is pretty good. I read a lot of books.”

  “Did you come here very much while I was gone?”

  “No. I stopped and looked around sometimes on the way to the stables, but I didn’t stay long. It’s not so good alone.”

  “Alone?” Ivy said. “Did you forget about the Tree People?”

  Martha almost had. After all, they had only begun to learn about the Tree People when Ivy went away. But now that Ivy was back, the whole thing started up again right where it left off.

  The Tree People lived on another planet that they called the Land of the Green Sky. On their planet all of the land was covered by enormous trees that grew hundreds and hundreds of feet into the air; and the thick roots of the trees were woven together in a great solid floor that completely, or almost completely, covered the ground. The Tree People were very beautiful and good. Their skin was pale green, and their hair was darker green and blossomed with flowers. They lived in softly rocking tree houses and traveled from place to place on highways that were the broad lower branches of their forest world. They lived on fruits and nuts that grew everywhere, and their pets were tiny bright-colored monkeys and singing birds. Although the Tree People couldn’t fly, the gravity was not very strong on their planet, and they could glide like blowing leaves from the higher levels to the lower ones.

  However, the good and beautiful Tree People had very terrible enemies, who lived underground beneath the interwoven roots of the great trees. They were called the Lower Ones, and they were very cruel and ugly. Then, because of the death of one of the tree roots, a hole was formed in the wall between the two worlds, and the invasion of the Lower Ones began. Down in the great caves in which they lived, the Lower Ones had discovered the secrets of a powerful dark magic; and by using this magic they were able to turn some of their people into other forms. By doing this, they were sometimes able to kill or capture the leaders of the Tree People. In time the beautiful Land of the Green Sky could be conquered and ruled by the Lords of the Lower Level.

  Martha and Ivy invented and played the Tree People game in many places, but most often up among the wide branches of the trees of Bent Oaks Grove. Sometimes they played themselves, Martha and Ivy, Earthlings who had discovered the Doorway to Space, and were able to travel to the Planet of the Green Sky to help the Tree People in their fight against the Lower Ones. At other times they played the roles of such Tree People as Prince Willow, the handsome but weak prince, whose careless killing of a singing bird had caused all the trouble in the first place. Nothing was ever killed under the green sky, and there was a curse on bloodshedding, so that the blood of the dying bird, falling down onto the root of a tree had made it die, leaving an opening for the Lower Ones to enter the land.

  There was also Princess Wisteria, the good green princess, and Lord Lilac, the kind but rather foolish advisor to the royal children. And then there were the Pretenders—Lord Hemlock and Queen Oleander and their daughter Princess Mistletoe—who were all, in reality, transformed Lower Ones. In fact, in the evil days after the death of the bird, the Land of the Green Sky was full of Pretenders—lovely green people who were hiding their true squat and scaly shapes behind the dark magic of the wizards of the Lower Lands. These Pretenders could only be detected by the fact that their beautiful emerald eyes were blank and color blind because they did not really use them for seeing, as true Tree People did. The Lower Ones saw only by means of an internal radar that perceived shapes and surfaces even in the dark, but could not see colors even in brightest daylight.

  During hours and hours of playing in Bent Oaks Grove, Martha and Ivy developed the history of the Tree People and their cruel enemies, and played the parts of all the characters. They went through episode after episode involving attacks by the Lower Ones and near escapes by the royal family of the Tree People. Finally they played that Prince Willow and Princess Wisteria had escaped through the Doorway to Space and had become exiles on earth, where Martha and Ivy were helping them, though even on earth they were pursued by their evil enemies. Since weapons and violence were forbidden to Tree People, the only way to repel the attacks of the Lower Ones was by the use of superior magic. So it became necessary to constantly work at developing new spells and enchantments, and finding new charms and magical powers.

  Once when things were most desperate, and Queen Oleander, who was by far the most dangerous of the Lower Ones, was about to discover the way to use the Space Channel to earth and arrive at the Doorway—just at that moment the Magic Wand was discovered.

  The Wand had belonged to a magician of great power in the very distant past, but somehow it had been lost to him. When Martha and Ivy found the Wand, in an old trunk in the closet that had once been Martha’s Mousehole, it had lost most of its power through being used for years and years as an ordinary useful object—an ivory chopstick, to be exact. But after an elaborate ceremony of purification and re-magicking, it regained all its strength; and for some time it was able to protect the exiled royalty in Bent Oaks Grove by setting up a magical force field that prevented the entry of all evil creatures. But, like all the other magical solutions, it, too, was eventually made powerless by the magic of Queen Oleander.

  She had, in her underground palace deep in the depths of the Lower Land, a Magic Fire Pit that burned with a gray flame. And by the light of the flame she was eventually able to discover evil enchantments strong enough to overpower nearly every form of good magic. That is, all except one. There was just one talisman whose magic was pure and strong enough to never be entirely conquered by Queen Oleander. That talisman was Josie.

  Josie was Josie Carson, Ivy’s little sister. When Ivy had been in Rosewood Hills before, Josie had been a little baby and Martha had only seen her once—the day she had paid her only visit to the Carsons’ house. But during Ivy’s second stay, Martha saw almost as much of Josie as she saw of Ivy.

  By the time Ivy returned to Rosewood Hills, Josie had become a very lively three-year-old. She also became Ivy’s responsibility. Mrs. Carson was sick a great deal that year. Ivy had told Martha that the reason her mother was sick was that she drank too much; but, whatever the reason, she was too sick most of the time to look after Josie. Since the only other girl in the Carson family was eighteen-year-old Brenda, who was much too busy with other things, most of Josie’s care was given to Ivy. Most of the time Ivy’s mother managed to stay well long enough to take care of Josie until Ivy came home from school, but just barely. As soon as Ivy got home, Josie was all hers.

  At first Martha thought that having a three-year-old around all the time might ruin everything. However Ivy seemed to think it was all right. At least it didn’t seem to be Josie that she minded. If there were things that Ivy was beginning to mind, that year, they were other things—and people.

  Actually, Josie never was much trouble, and besides she turned out to be magic. Ivy said that most babies have secret powers. According to Aunt Evaline; people are always born with all kinds of magical abilities, but living in the world makes most of them lose the magic very soon. Josie still had some of hers.

  Josie looked like a smaller rounder version of Ivy. Her black hair curled in short wild tangles all over her head, and her eyelashes were so long that they sometimes looked tangled, too. She had eyes that certainly looked magical, and it was perfectly plain that she could see people and things that no one else could see. She also remembered parts of a magical language, and it turned out that she was constantly surrounded by a field of invisible light that protected her and everyone near her from certain kinds of evil spells. She was constantly protecting the Prince and Princess of the Land of the Green Sky from Queen Oleander, and sometimes she protected Martha and Ivy from other sorts of evil.

  11

  JOSIE’S MAGIC WORKED IN all sorts of ways sometimes in ways that no one ever dreamed or expected. Like the time she had kept Martha from
being exiled to Florida with her grandmother. It happened near the end of the summer when Martha and Ivy were between the fifth and the sixth grades.

  A feast had been planned to celebrate the fact that Martha had finally learned to climb to a place high in the tree called Temple Tower. It was a fork between slender wavering limbs, very, very high above the ground, known as the Doorway. It was there one went to take off into the Space Channel. Before that time Martha had been forced to take off from a lower doorway, a specially developed concession to the fact that she tended to get dizzy in high places. So when she finally made it to the real doorway there was reason to celebrate.

  The feast was to be held in the Falcon’s Roost, since it was roomy enough to hold all three of them, and low enough so that Josie could be boosted and pulled up to join them. The food was to come from Martha’s house. The menu was based on what Martha thought might be available and not too seriously missed, and since there would be quite a bit for one person to carry, Ivy was going to help. Fortunately, it was one of Grandmother Abbott’s club days, and no one would be home.

  Ivy still went home with Martha now and then, but almost always when no one else was there. They didn’t have to explain why to each other or make excuses. They both just knew from experience that whenever it was brought to the adult Abbotts’ attention that Martha was still spending a great deal of her time with Ivy Carson, the Abbotts started trying to find all sorts of other things for Martha to do. Right at that time it was particularly important not to stir things up, because one of Ivy’s brothers had just been in the paper again, and as usual, not for anything good.

  So, Martha and Ivy, and Josie, of course, entered the Abbotts’ yard quickly by the back gate, in case Mrs. Peters, who was Mrs. Abbott’s friend, and talked a lot, might be outside. They hurried through Grandmother Abbott’s famous garden, towing Josie between them like a chubby glider not quite airborne. As they passed Grandmother Abbott’s espaliered fruit trees, Ivy made a face. Martha knew why.

  The first time Ivy had noticed the trees she had said, “What’s wrong with those trees?”

  “They’re espaliered,” Martha said. “My grandmother does it.”

  “I don’t like it,” Ivy had said. Martha had asked why, but even as she asked, she already knew. “Tieing a tree up like that and smashing it against a wall,” Ivy said. “I just don’t like it.”

  Inside the Abbotts’ house Martha and Ivy went right to work hard-boiling eggs, making peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and squeezing lemons for lemonade. Ivy was up on the top step of the kitchen stool looking for paper cups, because Martha was sure she remembered seeing them somewhere up high, when Josie suddenly had to be taken on a quick trip to the bathroom. Martha and Josie were still in the bathroom, and Ivy was still going through the top shelves, when Grandmother Abbott swept into the kitchen, home early because she was sick with a headache and in a very bad mood. The picnic was off, Ivy and Josie were sent home, and Grandmother asked Martha a lot of suspicious questions.

  That night when Martha’s parents came home, Grandmother Abbott, without saying it in words, made it seem as if Ivy had been up on the stool looking for the family jewels or something like that. When Martha tried to explain, her grandmother interrupted, “There, there, dear. Don’t get so upset. No one is angry with you.” And she gave the other Abbotts a look that said it was sad how easily the poor child was fooled by scheming people.

  Martha went to bed that night feeling frustrated and worried. She had a terrible feeling that something was going to happen, and sure enough it did. A few days later her mother told her that Grandmother Abbott was planning another long visit to Florida, and this time she had offered to take Martha with her. There was a very nice private girls’ school not far away from where they would be living, and Grandmother’s new apartment had yard space where she and Martha could have a good time planting a really tropical garden.

  Martha protested. She even came close to telling the truth—that she had always hated working in Grandmother’s garden. But because Martha’s love of gardening was such a long-standing family myth, she couldn’t quite go that far. She did say, however, that she absolutely didn’t want to go. But her mother only explained, as usual, that as soon as she got used to the idea she would be overjoyed.

  “After all,” she said, “it’s not as if you really have been enjoying school here—the way Cath does, for instance. You know you’ve never taken a great interest in your studies, or even had a great many friends. I think it would be wonderful for you to have a chance to go to an exciting new place and a nice new school and get a brand new start.”

  “Go-to-Jail-go-directly-to-Jail-do-not-pass-go-do-not-collect-two-hundred-dollars,” Martha murmured.

  “What was that, dear?”

  “Nothing,” Martha said. She knew it was hopeless. They would close in around her gently and stickily, like a great inescapable spider web, until she stopped struggling.

  There was nothing Ivy could do to help either. When Martha moaned to her about it, she only frowned and said, “You shouldn’t go.” There really wasn’t very much more to say.

  But one day, a couple of weeks before Martha was due to fly south with Grandmother Abbott, Josie’s magic started to work. Martha and Ivy had been playing with Josie in the Falcon’s Roost that day. Josie had been telling them about things that had happened to her before she was born. Josie remembered a lot of things that had happened to her that had certainly never happened to Josie Carson. Like being on a big boat out on the ocean. Ivy was sure that Josie had never been on a big boat, but Josie insisted that she had. “I did it a long time ago,” she said, “before I was born.” After Josie said that, Martha and Ivy looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  “Where did you live, Josie?” they asked. “You know, before you were Josie Carson.”

  “I lived in a little house,” Josie said, “with a teddy bear—and a vacuum cleaner.”

  “What other people lived in the house, Josie?” Ivy asked.

  “A teddy bear and a vacuum cleaner,” Josie said. She frowned at Ivy. “I said before,” she said. She frowned harder and added, “I don’t want to talk anymore.” She snuggled into Martha’s lap and put her face against Martha’s. A minute later she said, “My face hurts.” Martha noticed that her face was very hot; and when she and Ivy looked at Josie carefully, they could see that one of her round little cheeks was rounder than the other one.

  So Josie had the mumps, and two weeks later just as the time came to take the plane to Florida with Grandmother, Martha had them, too. Because of social obligations, Grandmother Abbott had to go on without her; and afterwards the rest of the family gradually forgot their determination to pack Martha up and send her away.

  Of course, as soon as it became pretty certain that Martha would not be sent to Florida, it was necessary to have a special ceremony at Bent Oaks Grove.

  “We can call it the Ceremony to Honor Baby Magic,” Ivy said. Martha wrinkled her nose and Ivy asked, “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like a T.V. commercial—the Baby Magic part.”

  Ivy nodded. “Okay. How about Ceremony to Honor the Magic of New People?”

  “That’s perfect,” Martha said. “New People Magic.”

  The New People Ceremony began by putting Josie in the middle of altar rock, where she sat with her legs straight out in front of her, sucking on her two middle fingers. They made a magic circle around her with sacred stones and feathers and put a wreath of leaves on her head. Then Martha and Ivy danced and chanted around the rock, making up the words to the chant as they went along. It was very long and complicated and beautiful, and afterwards they never could remember all the good things about it—but it was about the Wisdom of Newness, and the Secrets of Before. As they danced around, Josie didn’t say anything at all, but every once in a while she took her fingers out of her mouth long enough to laugh.

  The ceremony was almost over when Martha sensed, more than heard, something, and loo
ked up quickly towards the lowest fork in Tower Tree, the spot she and Ivy called Falcon’s Roost. She grabbed Ivy’s arm and pointed, and sure enough, something bright colored was reflecting the leaf scattered sunlight. They ran to the trunk of the tree and looked up in time to see some long tanned legs starting down. The legs belonged to Cath Abbott.

  Martha was, all at the same time, amazed, embarrassed and worried. She was amazed because it was probably the first time she had ever seen Cath all by herself—except when she was at home. Anywhere and everywhere Cath went, as far as Martha knew, lots of other kids went too. So, to find Cath up a tree all alone was so astounding to Martha that, for a moment, she wasn’t actually as embarrassed and worried as she might have been. Not even when she thought about the teasing she was surely going to get, and the remarks the rest of the Abbotts were going to make when Cath told them all about what she had seen.

  But Cath wasn’t laughing, at least not yet. She leaned against the trunk of Tower Tree and just looked at Martha and Ivy, smiling an odd smile. It took a moment for Martha to realize that the smile seemed odd because it was so completely ordinary—with no lifted eyebrow or curled lip or any of the other usual extras.

  “Hi,” Cath said. “I didn’t mean to spy on you. I was just sitting up there—uh—thinking, before you came. So I just stayed there.”

  Martha and Ivy only nodded. Martha was remembering that she had recently heard Tom teasing Cath about somebody named Guy who had started going steady with somebody else. Martha wondered if maybe this Guy had been really important to Cath. Important enough to make her sit all afternoon in a tree by herself.

  “I couldn’t hear everything you said,” Cath said, “but it sounded interesting. Is—is your little sister really magic, Ivy?”

  Martha poked Ivy to warn her—and Ivy understood, but she only shrugged it off. “All babies are born with magic,” Ivy said. “Babies are born knowing all sorts of magic stuff, until they start thinking separately and forget everything. That’s what my Aunt Evaline says.”