[There are some spoilers here for book one, Fae Child. I have redacted some of them, but not all.]

Abigail D. Brown was dreaming. She often dreamed of her time in the Otherworld, and the friends she made there when she was a child. As weeks had turned into months, had turned into years, the dreams came less often.

Sometimes they were nightmares: shadows full of ice and rage trying to ensnare her as she ran into the darkness. But more often than not she dreamed of verdant forests full of pixies, trees that opened to reveal hiding spots, and of Foster, the elven boy she had met there.

In her current dream, Foster was leading her to see a meadow full of unicorns. When Abbie was awake she found it hard to precisely recall his face, but in the dreams he always seemed clear and exactly as she knew he had been.

Dream-Foster, wearing his magical clothes woven from leaves, turned toward her, opened his mouth, and barked.

Abbie jerked awake, and found Sammy, her eleven-year-old Jack Russell terrier, standing on her bed and barking toward the door.

“Hush! You’ll wake up Mom and Dad.” Abbie put a hand on Sammy’s collar, and the dog immediately quieted. He still bristled toward the hallway, and turned to look at her with a whine.

“Okay, hold on.”

Abbie swept her long hair out of her face, securing it with an elastic, and swung her legs out of the bed. Sammy immediately jumped down and stood by the door.

As she pulled on her robe he sat and whined. Abbie was about to shush him again, when a bump from downstairs interrupted her thoughts.

“Heel,” she said, and Sammy came to her side and followed her into the hallway.

The door to her parents’ bedroom was open, and Abbie looked inside. The bed was empty, covers thrown back haphazardly.

“It’s just Mom and Dad downstairs,” she whispered to her dog. Sammy’s eyes shifted from her to the stairs, his hackles still up.

Abbie tightened the sash of her robe and crept down the stairs, Sammy at her heels. There was a light on in the kitchen, and she could hear someone moving around.

When she could see into the kitchen she could see her mother, Fiona Brown, standing at the sink with her back to her.

“Mom?”

Fiona turned around, a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“What are you doing up in the middle of the night?” Abbie rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Sammy was upset.”

Her mother’s eyes tracked toward the dog, who was pressed against the back of Abbie’s leg, teeth bared in the beginnings of a snarl.

“I heard the dog barking.” Fiona blinked, and looked at Abbie. “Everything is fine. I just needed … a drink of water.” Fiona’s hands were in the sink, out of sight.

Abbie shrugged, looking around the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”

“Still asleep,” said her mother, turning on the water.

Abbie frowned, gazing toward the living room. “He’s not in bed.”

Sammy took the hem of her robe in his teeth and tugged backward sharply, knocking her off balance. Abbie stumbled backward, her mother suddenly very close, one of their ceramic knives slashing down toward Abbie’s chest. The dog’s quick reaction likely saved her life as the knife missed and Fiona staggered.

“Be a good girl and stay … still!” Fiona’s eyes flashed green and Abbie scrambled out of the kitchen as her mother thrust her hand toward her. A swirl of air caught Abbie’s feet and she fell in the dining room, Sammy rushing forward, jaws snapping.

The thing masquerading as her mother was not paying enough attention to the dog, and the Jack Russell got past the knife and barked, worrying at her legs.

Abbie took the distraction and touched her own Air magic, pulling on her half-elven heritage and freeing herself from the changeling’s trap. She had never seen a changeling, other than her own double for a moment eight years previously, but Abbie was certain that the “Fiona” in the kitchen was not her mother.

“Dad!” she shouted, frantic for her father’s help. After her unexpected trip to the Otherworld when she was eight, Abbie had learned [redacted for Fae Child spoilers]. Abbie was able to use magic — and changelings were well known as fairy creatures who could use magic on the human side.

Sammy yelped as the changeling kicked him away, his body sliding across the tile as he scrabbled for purchase. The Fae creature tossed blond hair out of its eyes and leapt at Abbie, who had just reached her feet.

Abbie darted to the right as the knife flashed out, but not quickly enough to avoid the line of pain that slashed across her deltoid. She yanked a chair out into the changeling’s path as the chase continued in the dining room, rounding the table and trying to keep it between them.

Not-Fiona faked to the left and Abbie mirrored its actions, breathless as she tried to think of options. Her father wasn’t coming, so he wasn’t here. And her mother wasn’t here, so she was either gone or —

No. Abbie put that thought out of her head, edging right as Not-Fiona began to slowly circle the table.

Sammy barked, running under the table and growling at the changeling’s bare feet. It grimaced, distracted momentarily as it tried to kick him again, and Abbie threw herself across the table, slamming hard into Not-Fiona’s chest.

The knife flew free as they went down hard, Abbie working Air to hold the creature still even as Not-Fiona threw up shields to thwart her. Their magic canceling out, Abbie grabbed the changeling of her mother by the sides of its head and slammed it into the ground. Once, twice. Three times.

“Where! Are! My parents!?”

The changeling snarled at her, but for all it looked like a human woman it was actually quite physically weak and couldn’t dislodge Abbie. Straddling the changeling, the sixteen-year-old put her knees on its arms to hold it in place.

“Where is my mom?!” Abbie started to panic, a breathless, fluttery feeling rising from her stomach and pressing her heart into the base of her throat. If the changeling wouldn’t talk, how could she find them?

“They are not here,” Not-Fiona hissed, trying to buck Abbie off and failing again. “The Otherworld is a big place. You will not find them.”

Abbie stretched toward the table and started to drag the tablecloth off, a half-thought in place of using it to tie the creature up. Maybe she could force it to open a portal, or —

As her weight shifted, Not-Fiona managed to leverage her legs underneath her and threw Abbie to the side. Sammy barked as Abbie fell, the tablecloth zipping off the table and momentarily entangling her.

The changeling scrambled across the floor, still a little dazed from its head injuries, as Abbie channeled Air and moved after it, the tablecloth flying off from her. Snagging Not-Fiona’s ankle, Abbie gasped as the Fae creature spun several different sorts of magic at once, a portal opening up in the middle of the kitchen.

Not-Fiona kicked back with her free foot, catching Abbie unexpectedly in the face and nearly dislodging her. Sammy darted forward, snarling and biting down on the creature’s clothes, pulling back with all his strength.

Abbie crawled up the length of the changeling’s body, unwilling to let go as the otherworldly light of the gate in front of them cast the kitchen into strange shadows. “Who… who sent you?!”

The changeling reached out a hand toward the swirling portal, not quite close enough to touch it. It keened with frustration, and Abbie growled in the back of her throat, her long brown hair in her eyes as she struggled to keep the creature from escaping.

They were locked in a stalemate for what seemed like an eternity, then something clicked into place for Abbie. She wrapped her hand up in the changeling’s blond hair, snagging it tight, and got off of its body.

The adult-looking changeling scrambled forward, desperate to get away from an opponent who was much stronger than it had been expecting. It was less than an hour old, and in over its head.

Abbie let it push forward, the certainty of a few moments ago evaporating as Not-Fiona touched the portal it had made and was pulled into it, dragging Abbie with it. She looked over her shoulder at the damaged kitchen, home, and then her hand was in the portal, still wrapped in the changeling’s hair.

She heard a growl, and saw Sammy, still bravely tugging at the changeling’s robe. Abbie tried to tell him to let go, but it was too late, the gate was closing in around her, and she was falling…