I awoke to the sounds of people speaking over the noise of a television. My eyes slowly opened to the sight of the crowded hospital waiting room. A quick glance up revealed that the clock on the wall read 5:12 AM, far too early for my tastes. ‘A king shouldn’t have to wake up before 9:00.’ I grumbled incoherently, my brain fogged up by the early hour. I cracked my neck as I worked out the kinks from sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. Slowly, I stood up and shuffled down the hall to the restrooms to freshen up. As I walked, I checked in with the hive, much to their relief. The nurse changeling caring for Sally-Anne informed me that she was still asleep, and that he would come get me when she awoke.

Upon returning to the waiting room significantly more awake, I plopped down into a chair next to a man who felt quite upset. The anxiety radiating off of him had a slightly bitter taste, but nothing terrible. “Hey, are you alright?” I asked him after a few minutes. “I don’t mean to pry, but if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”

He gave a grouchy snort. “I’m fine.”

“But you’re obviously worried about something; it’s written all over your face,” I replied. “I’m Al, by the way.” I offered my hand to shake, which he took.

“I’m Ian.” He sighed, “It’s just, my wife didn’t return home from work last night, then I get a call from the hospital telling me that she’s in intensive care.”

“Damn, what happened?” I asked.

Ian replied, “She had a stroke. No warnings, no family history, just BOOM, gone.” He bent his head forwards, resting it in the palms of his hands.

“The same thing happened to my employee,” I said grimly. “One moment, we’re working on a project, and the next, she’s out like a light.”

I looked away from Ian when the door to the waiting room opened. Out strode Sally-Anne’s nurse. He quickly walked towards me. “Sir, Sally-Anne Jones is awake. She asked to see you.”

The man beside me jumped up. “Sally-Anne’s my wife! I’m Ian Jones! Why would she ask to see him?” Ian asked, pointing to me.

Now this was a whole new level of awkward. I had completely forgotten that she was married and had not remembered said fact when I had been in her head. There’s a difference between ‘having a memory’ and ‘actively remembering it.’ Now I, the object of Sally-Anne’s affections and the reason she’s in the hospital in the first place, was standing next to her actual husband.

“I’m her boss and friend. I always care for those who work for me, especially if they are friends. I dropped everything to get her to the hospital, and I had to leave my daughters with my brother.”

Turning to me, Ian growled, “Why the hell didn’t you call me earlier instead of letting me wonder what had happened to her for hours?”

“Hey! I didn’t know a thing about you! I can barely even remember her mentioning that she was married, let alone what you were like,” I retorted.

<< I’m sorry to interrupt, your highness, but there’s a problem,>> the nurse said over the hive link. <<Sally-Anne is suffering from Magic Feedback Resonance Disorder.>>

<<Quickly and in English, please,>> I asked.

<<The backlash from the Soul-Sight spell collapsing made her magic reserves start to vibrate, creating a temporary numbing effect. She won’t be able to feel or call upon her magic for at least another two days. Since she was unconscious and undisguised at the time of symptom onset, she’s locked in changeling form until she recovers.>>

“Crap,” I said aloud.

Ian gave me a look, and then turned to the nurse. “What the hell are we waiting for? I want to see my wife!”

<<May I speak through you for a minute, nurse?>> I asked. He gave a slight nod. I took control of his mouth and lungs. “Follow me.” <<Go on, lead us to her room, but don’t take us in yet.>> As the nurse lead us forwards, through him I said to Ian, “You must love your wife very much.”

“Hell yeah,” he indignantly replied. However, it was not his words that I was after, but his emotions. Every memory a human has is encoded with emotion. By priming him with thoughts of Sally-Anne’s love, it would bring every related memory forwards in his mind. I watched the emotions stir within him, until at last I caught a glimpse of what I was searching for: true love. Even for the split second that the true love had surfaced, it was enough to make the mouths of the nurse and I water.

For a fraction of a second, I was envious of Sally-Anne; she got to eat true love on a daily basis, while I had not tasted anything that pure in years, probably since before Klika was born. Hell, I don’t even think my Catherine’s love was that appetizing. I shook my head and shoved those thoughts aside.

As we reached the private hospital room, I made my decision. <<Ginny.>>

The head of my Silencers stirred. <<Yes, Rex?>>

<< Code: Unmasked. Target: Ian Jones, husband of Sally-Anne Jones. Objective: observation only.>>

<<Understood,>> she replied.

As the nurse reached the door, I stopped him. Through him, I said, “There is something that I must tell you, Ian Jones. In this world, there are unexplainable things that happen, sometimes to ordinary people. There are thing that people are not meant to see or understand. There are things that defy all logic. You know of the sky, that one is obvious. Sally-Anne is another.”

Dread overcame Ian. “What the hell happened to my wife?”

“This is the reason why I hired her,” I said through my own mouth, “and why she came to this particular hospital. We,” I pointed to the nurse, “have changed.”

Before Ian could reply, the nurse opened the door and stepped inside. “Sally-Anne, you have visitors.”

Ian walked inside while I followed after. As I passed the nurse, I whispered, “Stay here for a minute, ok?” He nodded.

Ian gasped when he saw his wife, or more accurately, saw his wife’s true form. Black chitin had replaced her freckled white skin. A black fin protruded off of the back of her bald head. Her head was supported by a neck brace so that she wouldn’t move too much and further damage the rapidly healing tissue. Through compound eyes, she watched us. “Sal? Is that you?” Ian asked.

“Hey honey,” she said, her voice having taken on the signature changeling echo, though still recognizable as her own voice. The injured changeling gave a weak, toothy smile, which drew attention to the two fangs protruding out from her lips.

“W-w-what the hell…” Ian said; his eyes were wide with disbelief. He took a step back, then another.

“I wish you didn’t have to see me like this,” Sally-Anne said weakly.

“You. You’re a changeling!” Ian said, taking yet another step back.

I scowled. ‘How did he know that?’ I wondered. Behind his back, I transformed into a standard changeling, rather than my true form. “Tell me, how do you know that?” Ian spun around to look at me. I continued speaking, “I’m sure that none of us would ever be so careless as to say that word. The only reason I would ever willingly allow you to see our curse is because you are her husband, ‘til death do you part and all.”

Tears welled up in the human’s eyes as I spoke. His body started uncontrollably shaking. Fear and anger radiated off of him; it was not the reaction I was expecting. “We’re sick, that’s all. She was helping me understand our curse,” I explained, but it seemed that my words were not getting to Ian.

“‘Til death do you part…” Ian mused, and then pulled out his cell phone and tapped a few buttons while looking at it out of the corner of his eye; the main focus of his vision never left me. He held up the phone next to his ear and said, “I’m out. They got Sal.” He dropped the phone and stomped on it, smashing it to pieces. He snorted, “The crazy chick with the griffin was right…”

Suddenly, Ian turned and bolted out the door of the room. Sally-Anne screamed, “IAN! WAIT!” I reapplied my human form and chased after him. As I exited the room, I saw him round the corner ahead. Pumping my legs, I raced as fast as I could to catch the surprisingly swift man. I careened past a janitor’s cart, almost colliding with the janitor herself in my efforts to catch Ian, much to the janitor’s annoyance. When I rounded the next corner, I saw Ian dive into… the restroom?

Entering the restroom a second later, I saw Ian with put something in his mouth. “What the hell is going on with you? Your wife-“

“SHE’S DEAD! YOU FUCKING KILLED HER! THAT’S HOW YOU CHANGELINGS WORK! You kill your victims and replace them so that you can eat their loved ones! Well, I’m not going to be food,” Ian declared between gasps for breath. “Hang on, Sal, I’m… co…m…ing…” He dropped to the ground, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. Only a second later, he was still.

I raced over to where he lay and felt for a pulse. It was weak and fading fast. <<DOCTOR! NURSE!>> I roared over the hive mind. Tapping into their memories, I pulled out every memory they had of emergency first aid, including the magical knowledge acquired from the Canterlot Archives. Simultaneously, I passed the memories of the events to them. My hands lit up with magic, magic that quickly surrounded his heart. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release, I kept his heart beating with telekinesis.

Seconds later, the nurse that had lead me to Sally-Anne burst through the door while carrying a defibrillator. Shortly after, a changeling doctor rushed into the room, pushing a gurney. I released the magic on his heart and used it to rip away Ian’s shirt. The nurse placed the paddles on his chest and attempted to restart his heart. Two, three, four, five times the nurse tried, but to no avail.

Eventually, the doctor proclaimed, “He’s gone. Time of death, 5:39 AM.” The doctor reached forwards and closed Ian’s eyes.

Sally-Anne cried for hours. Eventually, it got to the point where the hospital staff had to sedate her in order to keep her from accidentally hurting herself. I had almost retreated within myself again, having hurt my changeling so much in such a little time. However, I pushed the oncoming storm of self-loathing aside when I saw the broken remains of his cell phone.

Having scooped them up, I brought them to Ginny. “He called someone as soon as he found out that she was a changeling.”

“Which was a stupid move, your idiocy,” Ginny replied.

“Hey, I thought I could trust the man. He had actual, honest-to-god true love for Sally-Anne. I didn’t think he’d go nuts on me; hell, I didn’t even get the full explanation out before he was gone,” I said. “Of course, that presents our problem. Who did he call and how did he get that information?”

Ginny drummed her fingers on the desk. “Either we have a traitor in our ranks or we’re dealing with another gatekeeper who’s feeding them information and is aware of the changeling presence.”

“It’s most likely the latter,” I commented. “He mentioned a woman and a griffin. We know our counterparts are often ousted and outright killed by griffins. I’ll see what information I can get from Chrysalis. As for this phone…”

Ginny smirked. “Were we human,” she said, “this would be destroyed beyond repair. Since you have all the pieces, I’ll track down a ‘ling who can fix it with a little magic.”

“Good. Afterwards, could you track down everything you can on Ian? I’m sure Sally-Anne would be willing to help when she gets out of the hospital. We need to find out who knows what.”

Ginny’s smirk grew. “Already on it.”

Fingers tapped the buttons on the telescopic digital camera. Once focused, the shutter clicked. From her perch on the rooftop, Catherine could see into the apartment window two blocks away. Through the eyepiece, she saw three figures, two black and one a strange, dark blue color. The oddest fact was that all three had wings; the two former’s wings were insect-like, but the latter’s were feathered. ‘She looks like Princess Luna… she even has the same mark…’

Unconsciously, Catherine ruffled her own new, feathered wings in protest of the frigid January air. The down feathers and short fur growing out of her skin did little at this point to preserve her body heat. Her rapidly changing body ached all over, but it was nothing compared to the former pain of originally growing wings out of her back.

As much as the pain of her transformation had bothered her, Catherine could feel them now. The changelings tickled at the edges of her mind when she passed them on the streets. It was not strong enough yet that she could identify a changeling on sight like her mentor, a changeling hunter by profession, could; however she could tell when changelings were near, when they were feeding on her. The thought sent shivers down her spine, completely unrelated to the early morning cold.

“I’ll have your head soon.”

There was something familiar about this feeling. There was something I had to do, but what? I could not remember. The feeling was like water through my open fingers, through my hole-covered hands.

I looked towards Selene; she smiled back. Why was I thinking about her, what did this feeling have to do with her. It was important, very important. I know that much. Why was my memory failing me? I should know this, but I did not. Even while I was still human, I never had a memory failure like this.

"First, Second, Third, Oblivion." Those words formed on my lips, but no sound emerged. Wait, what words? I could not remember what I just said merely an instant ago.

Then I forgot my worry, and everything was normal again.

“Where the hell is Ian?” Catherine asked into her computer’s microphone.

The voice on the other end said, “He called in this morning. He only said five words: ‘I’m out. They got Sal.’ It seems that our little bug friends are more dangerous than we thought.”

“So Ian axed himself? Fuck. Dave, what the hell happened?” Catherine asked.

“I don’t know,” Dave’s voice replied. “Damn!”

“What?”

“Don’t you get it?” He cried, “They got Sal! Sally-Anne lived with Ian! If that thing has access to his stuff, which I know it does, then they could find us!”

“Dave, chill,” Catherine said. “You know he didn’t have much stuff at his place. We’ve just got to lay low for a while. We have a plan for this, ok? Just go tell the others to hide for now.”

Dave was silent for a while. “And what are you going to be doing?”

“I’ve got a few favors I can cash in with Sarah. I’m going to dip into her informant network to see if I can scrounge up the last little bits of evidence,” Catherine explained. “Then we will have enough to move against them.”

“Are you sure?” Dave asked.

“I’m positive. We’ve been very thorough and they’ve been sloppy. This will work.”

The sound of two hard objects hitting one-another came through Catherine’s speakers. “Damn.”

“Did you hit your wrist again?”

“Yes, damn it bitch, I did,” Dave growled. “I’m going to kill that fucking bug for ripping off my hand!”

“Quit your whining. The docs got it reattached just fine,” Catherine said.

“Hey, fuck you, chicken bitch.” Catherine ruffled her feathers in annoyance. “Just fine my ass, I still can’t write with it!” Dave growled.

Author's Notes:

*Ding* Have a chapter!

I've been having a bit of writer's block trying to figure out the next scene, but then I realized that I could get this section out of the way while I think.

Anyway, Catherine is changing into an Anthro griffin. Since the difference in magic levels between humans and griffins is much smaller than the difference between any other Gatekeeper pair, Catherine's change is slower. Her partner will also change more than the other two Equa Gatekeepers. I explained this in the trivia of chapter 32.

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I wrote this chapter while snowed in. Granted, snowed in for Cobb county is 1 inch of snow, but when the school bus takes five hours or more to get home due to ice (It did. I was trapped on a school bus for FIVE HOURS!), closing schools is perfectly justified. Yeah, my county is not prepared to deal with snow (THE FIRST SNOW SINCE 2011!).

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Thank you to my wonderful editors, Alternate Madness and Doctor_N!

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-- Despite the parasitic appearance of Rex and Chrysalis's souls, they have a mutually beneficial relationship with their hive members; both parties gain from the arrangement.

-- In small amounts, love and lust are very healthy for a changeling to consume. However, in larger quantities, those emotions act like an addictive stimulant and aphrodisiac.

-- Within a changeling hive, memories form a sort of currency. Goods and services can be traded for knowledge and experience.

-- Often, changelings will share the memories of great sexual encounters to the hive mind in an attempt to boast and/or one-up each other. The collective experience of thousands of hours of sex makes changelings quite gifted in bed.

-- Along with making it impossible to mold magic into a spell, anti-magic rings grants the wearer an immunity to magic. This makes it a great tool for disabling unicorns. The wearer would fight a unicorn, then transfer the ring to a unicorn's horn to suppress their magic.

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Changeling population: 341 (274 converted, 66 hatched, 1 permanent digital)
Changeling owned businesses: 7
Funds: $85.085 million cash + $62.1 million raw materials + $79.3 million in businesses + $45.185 million in investments + $7.1 million land & property. (Total wealth: $278.77 million, or $0.82 million per changeling.)

Changeling divisions:
-Finances (those who make money for the hive)
-Love collectors (those who make love for the hive)
-Research & Development (those who make toys for the hive)
-Silencers (those who make you shut up about the hive)
-Infiltrators (those who infest other organizations for the hive)
-Saboteurs (those who break things for the hive, subdivision of infiltrators)
-Trappers (those who hunt for the hive, aid the king in catching people alone so that they can be converted. Most are also Silencers or Infiltrators.)
-Soldiers & Assassins (being established now)

Changeling properties:
-The Bee Hive (low-cost housing, south side of Atlanta)
-The Eye of the Beholder (bar/night club, near Atlantic Station)
-Livewire Club (Bar/sex club)
-The Ore Mine
-Individual houses/apartments of the converts
-Hidey-Hole apartments.

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Edited 6/6/2014. Added the section "There was something familiar..." to "...everything was normal again."