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that her people could travel to every possible world, to learn about other peoples and to help them with their magic. But then a wicked young girl, who wanted all the worlds for herself, stole the key and locked all the doors so that no one else would ever be able to find it again. Then the girl disappeared, vanishing into one of the now hidden worlds, leaving the Queen and her people cut off from everywhere, unable to travel between worlds and share their magical gifts.

  The Queen knew that she had to find the wicked young girl, had to get the key back so that the doors could once more be opened. But alas, the Queen did not even know where the girl had gone and had no way to search the now hidden worlds.

  But then, after many years of study, the Queen found a way look into the hidden worlds. She could not leave her own realm, but she found a magic mirror that allowed her to search for the wicked girl and the key. Eventually, she found them in the human world. She devised a plan that would allow her to follow the girl there and take back the key to the other worlds.

  Among the many beautiful peoples who lived beneath her rule, was a race known as the changelings. They were strange creatures who kept to themselves and didn’t often come to court. She called them to her and told them of her plan. The agreed to help her.

  The Queen had many children. From them, she selected a strong and beautiful babe. Then she used her magic mirror to look into the human world and find a tiny, pitiful human baby fresh from his mother’s womb.

  The changelings began to work their strange magic upon the Queen’s babe. He cried out in pain that brought tears to his mother’s eyes and broke her heart in two. But what she did, she did for the good of her kingdom and her people. So she bid the changelings continue.

  Slowly, her beautiful babe was transformed until he looked just like the hideous human baby the Queen had found in her mirror. When the transformation was complete, her babe disappeared, sucked by the changelings’ magic across the boundaries of the worlds. In his place appeared the human infant, weak and mewling.

  Through the magic mirror, the Queen watched as her own beloved babe, his beauty hidden by the glamour of the changelings, was accepted by his foster parents, who were so stupid and blind that they never even noticed the switch.

  The Queen mourned for the loss of her son, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that she would see him again. For just as the changelings’ glamour had banished him from her realm, one day—when he had grown up and had discovered who and what he was—it would draw him to one of the doors that would lead him home. For the human world was one without magic and therefore the doors there could not be sealed as they had been in the Queen’s realm.

  Every year, the Queen sent for the changelings and every year they sent another of her children into the human world. For fifteen years. Eventually they would all return and with each homecoming the seal that locked the door on the Queen’s side would be weakened. And when enough had returned, the seal would be broken and the Queen would be able to enter the human world and find the wicked girl who had stolen the key.

  “And so you see, dear Glyndwr, your coming is most happily welcomed! You are the first, but your brothers and sisters will follow you soon enough. The seal has been weakened. It will be easier for them to remember who they are. And you, now that you are home, will begin to remember as well,” said the Queen. And then she laughed and the crowd—her fairy court—laughed with her.

  Not able to help himself, Dylan began to laugh with them, trapped by the magic of her voice. Then he saw the collared children. Saw that they were the only ones not laughing. Instead, they stared with the dull expressions of those whose pain had gone on for so long that they no longer felt it. And for the first time he noticed a boy standing at the back of the dais, leaning against the throne. He was average height with black hair and a slightly crooked nose. He stared back through hazel eyes that Dylan had often seen in the mirror. The boy looked just like him, except skinnier and with a harder expression in his eyes.

  “Ah, I see that you have noticed Goban,” the Queen said. “He’s the oldest of my pets. Not a very handsome specimen, but don’t worry about that, dear Glyndwr. You won’t look like him for long. The glamour will soon fade now that you are home. It’s happening already, in fact. Look at your hands.”

  Dylan held up his hands and saw that his skin was beginning to change colors. It was turning silver, like the Queen’s. Like his mother’s. He had listened to the Queen’s story, had been entranced by her voice, but he hadn’t believed it. Not until this moment. But as he looked from his own silver hands to the boy who shared the face he had worn for the last fifteen years, he knew that it was true.

  He was home.

  And home was the witch’s cottage.