“Finally got her to sleep,” a young mother, Jane, says as she collapses into her rocking recliner chair. The baby monitor on the nightstand is quiet, the streetlights outside illuminate the lacy curtains of the couple’s bedroom, and her husband sits, propped up by pillows, reading by lamplight. Their daughter, recently turned two years old, is in the next room, finally tuckered out.

“Can’t believe how big she’s getting,” the father, Mark, comments as he closes his book with this finger still marking his place, stuck between the pages as a temporary bookmark.

“I can’t believe how much she’s eating,” his wife replies, chuckling. “We’re going to have to go to the grocery tomorrow, by the way,” she mentions.

“That should be fine.” Mark looks at her, watching as she crawls onto the bed and lies down on top of the blankets. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, fondness softening his voice.

Jane looks at him through her loose, unwashed hair, smiling. “Ah, yes. The height of fashion, I am!” She rolls onto her back and stretches her legs up to the ceiling. Clad in her husband’s gym sweatpants and fluffy socks with plenty of pills in the fabric, she’s much more dressed for reading microwave-oven directions than wine lists. Her shirt is slightly too big for her, and stained by more than a few lazy dinners at home, but its comfort is undeniable.

“I don’t care what you wear,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I didn’t say your outfit is beautiful. I said you’re beautiful.”

They roll toward each other and share a soft kiss, each smiling in an easy, tranquil way. Mark dogears his page and sets it to the side on his nightstand. Then he reaches over and sets a warm palm on her hip. She moves his touch to her lower belly.

“So,” Jane says, drawing the vowel out like a secret. “What do you think about… planning our next?”

He chuckles. “You want another kid already?”

“Well…!” She laughs with him. “It wouldn’t be right away… but… we could start planning.”

“Are you sure you want two under three, Jaybird?” he asks, still teasing her because he loves her, but noticeably sobering, taking the topic under serious consideration.

“It’ll be tough,” she agrees. “But think of the baby pictures! And Rain’s started asking me about little sisters and little brothers. Those ‘Little Critter’ books, you know.”

He laughs. “Well, I suppose if my baby girl wants a sibling, who am I to say no?” He leans over his wife, kissing her cheek over and over, moving closer to her mouth with every soft peck.

His wife, however, is distracted by a noise from the baby monitor. “What’s that?” she whispers.

“She’s snoring?” he suggests with a slight shrug.

“No, that’s not…” Jane moves out from under her husband and tiptoes to their open bedroom door. Their daughter’s bedroom door is closed, a few paces down the hall.

Then the baby monitor lets out a hiss of static, followed by a yelp. A faint voice swears quietly, the whispers slightly distorted through the small speakers. “Are you kidding me? Really? Who even still does that?”

“Oh my God, Rainy…!” Jane runs to the door and throws it open, eyes landing first on the crib, and then on the figure standing near it. “Get away from my child!” she shouts. Rain wakes up, starting to cry, and the figure backs up to the other side of the room. Jane runs to her child and picks her up, cradling her to her chest and bouncing from the knees. “What are you doing in my home?” she demands. “Who are you?” Her child’s cries fill her ears but she tunes them out. She’s there for her child; her child is safe now; she can cry from being woken up all she wants. Jane rubs a hand up and down along her daughter’s back.

“I mean you no harm,” the figure replies, their voice surprisingly delicate now that it isn’t garbled through the baby monitor. A woman?

Jane shoves the lightswitch on with her elbow, filling the room with light and illuminating a person in what looks like a hooded jacket and pants, both matte black. Then Mark runs in, sliding in his socks as he stops in the doorway.

“Tell me who you are. I’m going to call the police,” Jane warns.

The stranger lowers their hood and reveals white-pale hair, tied into intricate braids and pulled back over elongated, pointed ears.

“If I tell you what you want to know,” the stranger says carefully, “will you let us leave?”

Then Jane sees a small form stirring against the stranger’s chest, swaddled in what looks like a long, wide scarf, tied around both figures: a child, one who can’t be much older than Rain.

In fact, the child looks remarkably like Rain.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jane asks, voice softer now that Rain’s cries have quieted to whimpers; she’s still sleepy, head rested on her mother’s shoulder, but not quite asleep enough to set down.

“Will you let us leave?” the stranger asks again.

“Tell me everything and I’ll consider it.”

“My name is Fall,” the stranger says. “And you were not supposed to have been made aware of my arrival.” The dignified tone of voice doesn’t last long, though. “Who still uses iron in their baby’s bed?” Fall demands, hooking a thumb accusingly at the metalwork design on the headboard of Rain’s crib.

“It’s an heirloom,” Jane says defensively. “Now what the hell are you doing here, and why do you have a child with you?”

Fall sighs, looking from Jane to Mark, resignation making her face seem more mature than it did only moments ago. “You weren’t supposed to catch me, but… since you have…” Fall sighs. “I’m tasked with child exchanges.”

“The hell did you just say?” Mark demands, stepping into the room with his chest puffed out and fists curled.

“Your child would have been taken care of, by a wonderful family if I do say so myself—really, Dew and Drop are a lovely couple. And in return, you would have raised this child”—who is now stirring and mumbling, near to waking—“as your own. You wouldn’t have been put out at all, since you already had a daughter, and both children would get the gift of an immeasurably beneficial upbringing. You have to understand, Fair Children aren’t… beholden to our rules or weaknesses when they’re raised by Humans. And the Human child would want for nothing! There are no parties that would lose!”

“This is our daughter you’re talking about!” Mark shouts. “Why should we—”

He falls silent when Fall turns, revealing the child’s sleeping face. Looking alike isn’t fully accurate; she looks identical to Rain.

“I assure you, she has the same eye color, as well. I’ve been watching you for some time. I’ve given her every trait your daughter has, at least as far as physical appearance is concerned. She may fuss for a while as she adjusts to your world, but it will eventually pass. And, if you raise her with love, she will be everything you could have wanted. I even have permission to erase your memories of this night, if you accept.”

“Hell no, we don’t accept!” Mark declares. “You can get out of here, lady! Or I will call the police and have them arrest you for breaking and entering, not to mention probably kidnapping that kid.”

“Mark,” Jane says. “Calm yourself. And keep it down? Rain’s finally back to sleep.”

“Jane, you can’t be thinking about going along with this? This is illegal! And—”

“Mark!” Jane hisses in a sharp whisper. “If you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head, then you’re no longer welcome in this discussion.” Before her husband can argue, she continues. “My grandmother told me stories about this sort of thing… Changeling children, right? Fall, was it? I never understood why, though.”

Fall sighs and looks at the rocking chair. “May I?” Jane nods and Fall sits, rocking slowly and stroking the back of the child that looks uncannily like Rain. She even has a beauty mark on her cheek, by the corner of her eye.

“Why does she look like that?” Jane asks. She sets Rain back in her crib and starts the musical mobile playing. “Or maybe how is a better question.”

“Various glamour spells,” Fall says. “Though I’ll have to find her a different family now… No way am I letting her stay somewhere with iron on the crib. As likely to develop a tolerance as waste away!”

“Why would she want to live here? Why not with her own parents, if they’re so good?” Jane sits against the crib, watching Fall curiously. Eventually, Mark gives in and sits next to Jane.

“Fair Children raised in our world develop the same… constraints we’re bound by. For example, not being able to leave when a Human catches you, until you satisfy a deal with them. Like answering their questions in exchange for being allowed to go free. That’s one of my go-to deals to make with Humans, since they’re always so curious”—Fall’s grin turns mischievous—“and since other Humans never believe them. But when they’re raised here, they avoid being snagged in that trap. And since Humans can’t be caught in that requirement…”

“What about the iron thing?” Jane asks. “Won’t any child raised here still be…?”

“Well, the thing about that is… you folks eat iron. It’s in your blood, which is sort of terrifying to think about. But iron compounds harm us much less than… pure iron does.” Fall casts a sidelong glance at the metalwork on the crib. “With as many iron compounds as you Humans use in everyday life nowadays, eventually a Fair Child would build up enough iron in their system that even touching pure iron like that monstrosity would be fine. You’d have to keep them from getting too close to anything with too much pure iron in it until that tolerance was built up, but eventually…”

“Can your kind eat our food, if there’s iron in it?” Jane asks.

Fall chuckles. “Unless you’re sprinkling iron shavings directly onto the food, yes, we can. Too much of something with a lot of iron in it might give us… what’s a tactful way to say it… indigestion.”

“Do you not have iron ore in your world, then?” Jane wonders.

Fall shakes her head. “Not that anyone has found. We don’t have any natural source of iron to build up any immunities to it, so… our only chance is to give up our little ones to be raised in an environment… quite hostile to us. We can visit occasionally, sure. But to live here?” Fall shakes her head again. “But we want the best for our children…”

“Wouldn’t a Human child living with you, where they can’t access iron, eventually get anemia and die?”

Fall looks confused. “What is anemia?”

“Your—” Jane corrects herself. “Our blood cells require iron to bind with oxygen. To bring oxygen to our cells and carbon dioxide away from them. Otherwise you get fatigued, you feel faint, you start getting unhealthy, and… you would eventually die.”

Fall frowns and shakes her head. “We’ve had Human children in our world with us for centuries and they’ve never suffered from any of that. Perhaps there is something in our food that replaces the iron you think your bodies need.”

“Then why do you need a resistance to iron?” Jane asks.

“Because you use iron in so many things,” Fall says simply. “You would have us… doomed to never again be able to return to your world?”

“Why do you want to?” Jane asks. “What’s so special about our world?”

Fall scoffs and rolls her eyes. “It’s so familiar to you, you’ve forgotten it entirely. All this technology… the inventions and advancements you’ve made… You can touch a device only once and music issues from it.” Fall looks at the mobile, still playing a soft lullaby. “You can contain firelight in such a small, manageable way,” she adds, looking up at the bedroom light. “If only we could stay in your world long enough, we could learn some of your ways! We could improve our own lives. But once Humans started mining iron and using it in all their devices, their buildings, their very lives…” Fall sighs. “We fell behind. We still have to craft torch sconces out of stone if we wish to use something other than wood. Our only weapons are made of troll or giant bone…”

Jane is quiet for a while.

“Do you have any other questions?” Fall asks.

“I’ve a different deal for you, Fall. Because I only said I would think about it if you answered my questions.”

Fall tenses. “And your deal is…?”

“You leave my child with me, go home, maybe find another family somewhere, try again to find that child you have there… a Human family to live with. And in exchange…” Jane looks to her husband. “We will raise a child of yours, as our own.”

“Wait, what?” Mark says.

“Why?” Fall asks.

Jane holds up a hand to both Mark and Fall. “You can only place young children, yes, Fall? If they’re too old, the Human family would surely know something is wrong with their child, since they don’t have the same memories, know the same words, remember family members…”

Fall nods. “Our memory spells can only do so much.”

“So,” Jane says. “What if we raised a child… who is already a bit older than you’d usually be able to place?”

Fall twists her mouth in thought and looks down at the child against her chest. “Well, maybe… I’d have to talk to the people in charge of this sort of thing. Really, I’m just part of the infiltration division. I don’t decide which children go where, I simply make it happen.”

“You want,” Mark says, looking at his wife seriously. “You want to adopt a child from… them?”

“Like we were saying earlier, two under three would be quite a handful. This way, we’d have another child, like we wanted, but we can skip the diapers, the all-night crying, the teething…”

Mark can’t keep the intrigue from his expression. “You have a point,” he admits.

“So—” Fall stands from the rocking chair, leaving it swaying to and fro on its own. “So, if we leave your child here—let you keep her—you’ll adopt a Fair Child and raise it? Even though the child is no longer a babe?”

“So long as,” Jane interjects, “you don’t mess with my memory. It would be bad if I didn’t know why my child got… injured when they touched my baby’s crib. And if they need to be watched with foods high in iron, well, I might take the child to the hospital to see what’s wrong if I don’t remember this conversation.”

Fall nods. “I think I can swing that. And you too, husband?” Fall asks, speaking directly to Mark for the first time.

“I’d like to keep my memories, yeah.” Mark folds his arms across his chest.

Fall rolls her eyes. “Do you also agree to this deal? We will leave your child be if you raise one of ours?”

Mark looks to his wife and sighs. “I can’t deny my Jaybird anything,” he says. “You’ve got a deal, I guess.”

Fall grins and hops on the balls of her feet. “I will return tomorrow night with your new child!”

Fall is starting to clamber out of the window when Mark stands up. “Hey, wait a second! How the hell are we gonna get away with suddenly having another kid? Folks are gonna think we kidnapped it! —them.”

Fall winks from outside the window, holding the windowsill ledge. “Your liaison will be by in the morning to sort out the particulars with you. Worry not!” She turns and jogs through the yard, toward the forest. “See you both tomorrow!”

“Liaison?” Mark mutters, turning to Jane. “So why the hell are you not as flabbergasted as I am right now, hmm?”

Jane shrugs. “I’m from here. I grew up with stories about this sort of thing. But I must say…”

Mark raises an eyebrow as he goes to close and lock the window that Fall had left open.

“We ought to invest in some horseshoe charms if we don’t want more Fair Folk coming into our house at any random time,” Jane says with a slight laugh.

Mark and Jane discuss the events of the night as they fall asleep, hearing the mobile’s music on the baby monitor. Mark dreams about strange, implike creatures dancing in a circle around his baby girl. Jane doesn’t remember dreaming of anything.

In the morning, as Mark feeds Rain some yogurt, a knock on the door reveals Annalise Groves, the manager of the town events planning committee and head librarian at the public library. Today, though, she introduces herself as the official liaison between Hallodale and its surrounding communities. Jane invites her in, and Ms. Groves sits with them in their living room, discussing the requirements for adopting a Fair Child, and how she will make it possible for their new child to have proper, legal documentation, such as a birth certificate and Social Security Number. She gives them a leaflet with plenty of information in it, disguised as a food allergy information pamphlet, and when she leaves them with her office telephone number, Jane and Mark both suspect that the town they reside in has a much larger secret than anyone suspects.

That day is spent shopping for the things a child would need that they don’t already have: a twin-sized bed and everything to go with it, clothes (of various sizes and all as gender-neutral as possible for now, since they don’t know if they will be adopting a boy or another girl), some more advanced children’s books, toothbrush and toothpaste, toys, room decorations…

That night, after Rain is asleep in bed, there is another knock on the door. This time, Fall doesn’t break in, she is invited in. And this time, she isn’t carrying a child.

She’s walking beside one.

A little boy with soft, dark hair that curls around his shoulders. Warm brown eyes that reflect the lamplight in Mark and Jane’s living room. A quiet voice that hesitates as he answers the questions they have for him, and asks some questions of his own. After a while, Ms. Groves knocks at the door and joins the event. She gives Mark and Jane more resources, some of which are of questionable origin, but all, she assures, are perfectly official.

“Now that we have all of that settled,” Ms. Groves says, “I think the only thing left is… Gale?”

Gale was the name the little boy came with, and he would be keeping it. He would be gaining a middle name and surname, of course, but he would remain Gale. It would be about the only thing he would retain of his previous life, short though it had thus far been.

Gale looks at Ms. Groves and presses his lips together. “Yes?” he asks timidly.

“We believe it would be easiest for you, in the long term, if you let Fall here…”

Gale shifts his attention to Fall. She’s nice, he thinks. And she doesn’t talk to him like he’s a child. Even though he is one. He understands, but he still enjoys how Fall talks to him.

“Gale,” Fall says when Ms. Groves seems to falter. “I have a memory spell I can give you. If you’d like. You’d forget your home in our world… but you’d be free to make a new home here. You would not be left with nothing, though; your memories would merely be… changed. But they’d be weak, so they’d be easily replaced when you make new memories.”

“If it means anything,” Mark says. He swallows. “I don’t remember much from before I was… how old are you?”

“This is my fifth summer, sir,” Gale answers.

“So, five?” Mark asks, looking to Fall and Ms. Groves.

“Four,” Fall says. “He’ll have his fifth birthday in… which month was it, Annalise?”

“February,” Ms. Groves says. “I believe, if I’ve calculated correctly, his birthday should be February fourth. Halfway between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox.”

“An Aquarius,” Jane says, looking at him fondly. “So. If you’re turning five next year… two thousand one?”

“That’s how math works today,” Ms. Groves says as she writes ‘Feb 4 2001’ on a sheet of paper. “Now… Gale… about Fall’s question…”

Gale looks at his hands, tapping his fingertips together as he thinks. “I will miss my friends… but”—he looks hopefully up at Fall—“I’ll make new friends here?”

“Absolutely,” Fall says. “I promise, you’ll make lots of new friends here.”

Gale takes in a deep breath and nods. “I would like to have a new life… It seems… nice here.”

Fall kneels on the floor in front of Gale, looking up at him seriously. “Your family loves you. And when you’re old enough, you’re welcome to come back. All you’ll need to do is talk to your new mother and father, and they’ll make it happen.”

“Absolutely,” Jane vows.

“How old is old enough?” Mark asks.

“Anytime after he reaches the age of choice,” Fall says.

“Sixteen years old,” Ms. Groves says.

“Will I…” Gale looks around. “Will I know that I have… other parents?”

“We will never hide the truth from you,” Jane says, smiling. “Well… at least the truth that you’re adopted. But at the same time, you will be our son, and we will treat you just like you’re Rain’s full brother.”

“There’s a possibility,” Fall says, putting her hands on Gale’s knees, “since your enchanted memories will fade, that later in life you will have trouble remembering anything before this, be those memories real or enchanted.”

“But at your age, that’s fine,” Ms. Groves adds.

“No matter what happens,” Fall continues, “no matter how much you remember or forget, know these two will love you with all their hearts. And you’ll have a wonderful family here.”

“Do you promise?” Gale asks.

“I’ll do you one better,” Ms. Groves says. “If they don’t, I’ll make it right, myself.”

Gale nods and looks at Fall. “What will change?”

One of Fall’s cheeks tugs her mouth into a crooked smile, and she cups his chin. “Magic will seem… imaginary. Forests will look different. Faces will be replaced. Not much, but still enough. You will be, in every way that will matter to you, just like your new family: Human through and through.”

Gale nods. “I can bear that.”

Fall pulls a small vial from a pocket in her hooded jacket and uncorks it. Soft, glimmering scintillae dance in the neck of the vial. “This will start to change your memories. By this time tomorrow, they’ll all be different. But, of course, you won’t know they’re different. They’ll all be familiar to you by then.” As Gale takes the vial, Fall kisses his forehead. “I won’t see you again for a long time, I hope. Because that will mean you’re happy here. But I do hope I can see you again.”

Gale nods and drinks the contents of the vial. His eyes slide out of focus as Fall takes the empty container from him, says goodbye to Jane and Mark, and leaves. When he regains focus, he rubs at his eyes.

“He seems tired,” Jane says, smiling maternally at him.

“We only have a few more things left to fill out,” says Ms. Groves. “While I’m thinking about it, have you decided on a middle name? Or a couple, perhaps?”

Jane and Mark look at each other. “Well, we were thinking of… Maxwell,” Jane says, looking at Gale. “So since you’re named Gale, what do you think of Gale Maxwell Hoffman?”

“You could go by Max if you like,” Mark adds.

“I like that name,” Gale says, his voice sounding soft and sleepy. “Although… I would prefer to remain Gale.”

Jane laughs and nods. “Absolutely, Gale. Whatever you like.”

“Now, we have your bed set up,” Mark says. “But if you’d like, you can sleep between us in our bed for tonight. So you won’t be alone on your first night here.”

“I’ll leave you three to it,” Ms. Groves says. “I should go file these forms back at the office.”

“Thank you for everything, Ms. Groves,” Jane says, standing and going to shake Ms. Groves’s hand.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Hoffman. And if there’s ever anything you need, you know how to contact me. I’m available any time, day or night.”

“You’re an angel, Ms. Groves,” Mark says. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Ms. Groves says. “I’ll see you around, little Gale. Good night.”

“Good night,” Jane and Mark both say. Mark walks Ms. Groves to the door and Jane holds Gale’s hand.

“Are we ready to go to bed?” Jane asks. “How about we show you both beds and you can decide then which one you’d like to sleep in, tonight?”

Gale nods and rubs at his eyes.

“Maybe tomorrow, we can see about getting you a haircut you’ll like. Does that sound good?”

“Will it hurt?” Gale asks?

“Oh, no, sweetie. Sometimes, some things might hurt. Vaccines, or cleaning up injuries… But this won’t hurt. And even if it did, I’ll always be right there to help you through it.”

“My mouth feels strange,” Gale says, smacking his lips.

“It’ll feel better in the morning,” Jane promises him.

Gale nods and walks with Jane toward the bedrooms, and Mark follows them. He sees his room, a child-sized bed in the corner of it, orange blankets and pillows covering it. He likes that color. It makes him happy. The walls have trees on them, flat but colorful, radiant. They make him happy, too.

He is then shown ‘Mom and Dad’s room’ and decides that he would, in fact, like to sleep with them tonight. Mark—Dad—gets Gale some pajamas from Gale’s room. Jane—Mom—helps him change into them because he’s so sleepy. Then they go into the smaller room, one at a time, and each come back wearing their own pajamas.

All three of them crawl into bed and Gale likes the feel of the heavy blankets. He snuggles into the pillow he’s given.

Then a loud sound comes from a thing next to the bed. It startles Gale.

“That’s your sister,” Dad says. “I’ll get her.”

“I love you, Mark.”

Dad smiles at Mom. “I love you too, Jane. And I love you, Gale.”

“I love you… Dad,” Gale tries out. It seems nice enough.

He falls asleep quickly, curled up beside his new Mom.

Tomorrow will be the start of a brand new life. He can feel it.