The Puca and the Changeling A short story by Madeline C. Lanshe
O
nce upon a time, a puca was bored, and that is never a safe beginning to any tale. Rafferty seldom struggled to find ways to occupy his time. If he wasn’t bringing mischief, or blessings, (whichever the whims of the moment compelled him towards), to the people in the villages within his territory, he was riding the wind as a raven, hopping across lush, green glens as a hare, or terrorizing real hares as a hound. But one afternoon, so peaceful even the flies silenced their noisy wings and slept in the sun, Rafferty was struck with a boredom so strong he had the compulsion to rip all the black fur off his body. Luckily (for him), a sound pierced the numbing peacefulness: a baby’s wail so sweet and melodious he had to put his hands over his long, droopy ears. 5
It had been a while since he’d conspired with a changeling, the creature responsible for the unearthly cries. Shifting into a slick, black fox he thought, This might not turn out to be such a dreadfully dull day after all. In order to fully satisfy the itch for trickery in his heart, Rafferty decided to take the changeling babe, who joined him with equal excitement and even more villainy, to a village well outside his territory. The mortals within his territory had become too accustomed to his games, and now put their children’s cribs close to their fireplaces, with iron scissors just nearby, for protection. At the first sign that something was off with their son or daughter, they would immediately suspect the puca. And there was no fun in that. Rafferty was a deft shapeshifter, and his horse form was ideal for galloping through the forest, keeping to the trees so as not to raise suspicion
