That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction

Home > Other > That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction > Page 40
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 40

by A. M. Lalonde


  Another tear spilled down her face, chasing the first one. Elphin reached out a finger and brushed it gently away.

  “M—maybe it’s because I completed my quest,” she said, trying to convince herself.

  “Perhaps,” he agreed, but his orange eyes looked troubled.

  She stared at his pockmarked face. He was still strange-looking and ugly, but how could she ever have been scared of him? “Will you be okay now? Will the hunt leave you alone?”

  He turned and looked back towards the forest. “I hope so.” Then he sniffed the air and glanced up at the sky. “But the hour is late. I must go.”

  She sighed. “So should I. I must be way over my time”

  He jerked his chin to the left. “Over there is a faerie ring.”

  Sure enough, a circle of polka-dot mushrooms poked through the grass nearby. “W—will you be in-game tomorrow?”

  His eyes clouded. “Yes.”

  “See you tomorrow, then?”

  He nodded solemnly. “I hope so.”

  * * *

  “Thanks for dinner,” Corinne said, pushing her chair back from the table. She helped her mother stack dishes in the dishwasher, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think I’ll go for a little walk before bedtime. Stretch my legs.”

  “Good idea, after being inside all day,” agreed her mother.

  If only she knew!

  Twenty minutes later, Corinne was striding up Chessaig hill as the evening light faded from the sky and the sun sank into the horizon. I’ll just visit Midnight’s place, then I’ll head home. The events of the day whirled around her brain, scrambled memories and hyper-real sensations returning to her as she walked. How could a game seem so lifelike? But Feyland certainly was addictive. She’d have to see if she could wangle her way back to the sim café tomorrow, and find her next quest.

  Pushing through the rowan trees in the almost-dark of the gloaming, her mind on the game, she suddenly stumbled to a halt, unable to believe the sight that met her eyes.

  Grazing peacefully on the lush grass at the centre of the hilltop was a grey horse. A beautiful, untethered white animal with no sign of headcollar or bridle.

  She spun around, eyes scanning the gloom, searching for its owner. But nobody was in sight.

  The horse’s head raised when he saw her, and he took a step towards her, liquid brown eyes staring intently into her own.

  No! It couldn’t be. Could it?

  The grey took another step forward, and dropped his muzzle into her hand, snuffling at her fingers.

  Her heart stopped. This was impossible, wasn’t it? He must be a ghost.

  But a very real, very solid nose nudged her in the ribs, and a very real, very elegant head jerked in the direction of the path.

  Not a ghost. Just something impossible and amazing.

  She swallowed. “Okay, boy. You want to go with me?”

  He bobbed his head.

  Taking a deep breath, she put a hand on his neck. “This way,” she said, and they set off down the hill towards the stables, together.

  EPILOGUE

  FROM THE SHADOW of the trees, Elphin watched them go, his heart heavy.

  He could tell the girl carried a burden of sorrow, and that she cared very deeply for horses. Maybe the unicorn will be good for her, in her real world. He wanted her to be happy, he truly did.

  But, watching them disappear into the gloaming, a niggle of worry ate at his soul. What if she was so happy with the grey that she never returned to Feyland? What if he never saw her again?

  What would become of him then?

  She didn’t know—couldn’t know—that their fates were inextricably linked; that Feyland wasn’t the simple game she seemed to think it was. But he knew, to his cost, just how treacherous the fey realm could be. And he knew, now, that he needed her help to escape his dark fate.

  As the horse and the girl vanished from sight, he squared his shoulders and turned back towards the forest. He couldn’t change what Corinne would choose to do; he could only hope.

  Hope.

  And dream.

  What happens next? Find out by reading ‘Kelpie Curse’

  —ABOUT THE AUTHOR—

  A finalist in the global Hugh Howey Booktrack writers' competition, Roz Marshall lives in Scotland with her husband and the obligatory dog and cat. Her writing experience includes screenwriting, songwriting, web pages and even sentiments for greeting cards!

  Sign up for new release discounts and a FREE short story!

  www.rozmarshall.co.uk

  ANOTHER WORLD

  Rachel Morgan

  Taliya rubbed her hands together and watched as a shimmering bronze powder formed between her palms. She dusted the powder over her arms, neck and chest, and a tiny bit on her face, hoping to achieve a subtle sparkle across her skin. Not too much—she didn’t want to stand out like a swarm of glow-bugs—but enough to catch the attention of the guy who only ever looked at her as a friend.

  “There we go, dear,” Marta said as she finished applying makeup to the scratch along Taliya’s shoulder. “That should cover it. No one will ever know about your adventure beyond the wall.”

  “Thanks, Marta. Mom and Dad would flip if they knew how far I’d gone.” She twisted in front of the floor-length mirror and examined the back of her shoulder. Marta had indeed done a good job concealing the scratch. “And it’s not as though I was in any actual danger,” she added. “It was just a bird.”

  “A vicious bird, from the looks of this wound.”

  “True. It was pretty hostile with those angry yellow eyes. But it was still just a bird. Nothing like the dangers Mom and Dad are so convinced lie beyond our gate.”

  “They just want to protect you, dear,” Marta said as she bent down and, with a quick zap of magic, cut off a stray thread from the bottom of Taliya’s dress.

  “I know,” Taliya said with a sigh. Her parents’ overprotectiveness was the bane of her existence. School was out of the question—a tutor came to the house every day—and the only time she ever left the property was in the company of her parents or her rule-abiding friends. Or on the odd occasion like today when she’d managed to climb over the wall without any of the guards seeing. Her parents wouldn’t even allow her to keep her stylus when she wasn’t with them. She could only use it under supervision. Supervision, for goodness sake! It was utterly ridiculous. She doubted any other seventeen-year-old faerie was as coddled as she was.

  Taliya dusted the remaining powder from her hands and examined her reflection: long dress, shimmery skin, pinned-up dark hair with streaks of bronze running through it. “Marta,” she said carefully. “Do you think … Do I look … pretty?”

  “Of course,” Marta said with laugh. “You always look lovely.”

  “What I mean is … if you were a boy, would you think I look pretty?”

  Marta’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “Oh, I see. Who’s the boy?”

  Taliya’s cheeks warmed. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Do I know him?” When Taliya didn’t answer, she added, “It wouldn’t, by any chance, be—”

  “No. Of course not.”

  Marta chuckled. “I’m sure he already thinks you’re beautiful.”

  Taliya rolled her eyes and smoothed her hands over her dress. “Well, I guess I’d better get on with this.”

  “It will be fun,” Marta said as she fetched Taliya’s shoes.

  “Fun. Yeah. Not weird at all when my parents insist on organizing an embarrassingly large event for me every year and then inviting all their friends.” She stepped into her shoes before heading for the door.

  “You know why,” Marta said. “For a faerie of your class, it’s expected.”

  “Ugh, can’t I be a faerie of your class instead?” Taliya moaned, sagging against the door. “Can’t I just be normal?”

  Marta chuckled. “Not when your father’s a cousin of the Seelie Queen.”

  “Yeah, like, a thousand times removed. Relatives that di
stant shouldn’t count as relatives.”

  “Stop whining and go and enjoy your party,” Marta instructed.

  “Fiiiiine,” Taliya said with a dramatic sigh. She pulled the door open. Then she looked back with a smile. “I’ll save you a piece of birthday cake.”

  Marta straightened her uniform. “Trying to make me fatter, are you?”

  “Always,” Taliya said with a grin. “See you later.” She took her time walking along the corridors, down the stairs, and toward the great dining room where her parents held parties. She was late, but her mother liked it that way. “You can’t arrive on time for your own party,” she’d said. “Your guests need to arrive first so they can appreciate your entrance.”

  Taliya peeked around the edge of the doorway. Faeries dressed in their finest mingled and chatted while floating trays of delicacies moved between them and couples danced to the music weaving its way through the gathering. The dining room walls and ceiling were gone, replaced by trees that stretched high above the crowd, their spindly arms bending and twisting together to form a dome overhead. Specks of gold light dotted the branches, and spouts of glittering water arced from one side of the room to the other, enchanted so that not a single drop fell upon the crowd below. Taliya allowed herself a smile. This party might be silly, but whoever was responsible for the decor enchantments had done a good job.

  “Taliya, darling, why are you hiding around the corner?” her father asked from just inside the doorway. “All your guests are here.”

  She wanted to point out that they weren’t her guests at all. Even the faeries her own age were only here because their parents were friends of her parents. Her real friends were Sasha and Nik, and Taliya hadn’t seen them anywhere yet. But this party wasn’t something she could avoid, so she didn’t argue.

  Taliya’s father led her through the doorway, and she steeled herself for the embarrassing announcement she knew was on its way. He raised her hand in the air and shouted out, “Here’s the birthday girl!”

  * * *

  Taliya had greeted at least a dozen people by the time she spotted Sasha and Nik. Sasha’s informal polka-dot dress barely met the party’s dress code, but Nik had done a decent job of suiting up for the occasion. Then again, Taliya thought as her stomach flipped over, she’d reached the point where she thought Nik looked amazing in anything.

  She politely excused herself from the conversation with her mother and aunt and hurried toward her two friends. “You guys are late!” she hissed as she threw her arms around Sasha and avoided making eye contact with Nik. She wanted to look at him, of course—she wanted very much to look at him—but nerves kept her eyes pointed firmly elsewhere. She hadn’t seen him since the Incident on the Stairs last week, and she was terrified she’d see regret in his eyes if she looked at him now.

  “Happy birthday!” Sasha exclaimed, squeezing Taliya tightly before stepping back. “And we weren’t late. We’ve been here for ages.”

  “We wouldn’t dare disobey your mother,” Nik added.

  Taliya managed to keep her gaze pointed at Sasha. “True. I should have known. You guys are far too boring to disobey my mother.”

  “Your mom is scary,” Sasha whispered.

  “Oh, and happy birthday,” Nik added. Finally, Taliya dared to look at him. His eyes were smiling, his arms open for a hug, but he seemed … wary? As if he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to hug her.

  Feeling a thousand percent awkward, Taliya stepped briefly into Nik’s embrace and then back again. “Have you had anything to eat yet?” she blurted out, her eyes darting back to Sasha. “I’m starving. And I haven’t seen the cake yet. Is it impressive? Mom told the kitchen they had to outdo last year’s cake.”

  “Oh, yeah, I saw it when we first got here,” Sasha said as she grabbed hold of a passing tray and scooped up a handful of bonbons that rippled continuously through the colors of the rainbow. “It’s, like, iced fire or something. Fire ice cream. I don’t know. It looks like a frozen castle with blue flames dancing all over it.”

  Taliya shook her head as she looked out at the fake smiles and pretend friends. “I’d be happy with a normal cake that was made of, you know, cake. But no. Mom has to make a spectacle out of everything.”

  “OHHHHH my goodness,” Sasha gasped. “A chocolate fountain just arrived.”

  Taliya turned and followed every gaze in the room to where her parents’ head chef was directing a massive fountain of chocolate through the air. It was shaped like a naked woman with her arms stretched above her head. Melted chocolate poured from her hands and ran down her body, covering it entirely. “Why a naked woman?” Taliya murmured to herself. “Why?”

  “Um, Taliya, do you want to dance?”

  Taliya’s gaze leaped to Nik’s before she could remind herself that looking directly at him wasn’t a good idea. It did all kinds of strange things to her insides. “Uh …”

  “Cool, you know where to find me when you’re done dancing,” Sasha said, already walking away. “I’ll be the one bathing in chocolate.”

  Taliya led the way toward the dance floor on the other side of the room, trying to remind herself what it felt like to breathe normally. And why was the music so slow now? She was certain it hadn’t been this slow since she’d entered the room. She turned around and looked firmly past Nik as she raised one hand to his shoulder and placed the other against his palm. His fingers wrapped around hers, sending a shiver shooting up her arm. Behind Nik’s head, a small shower of sparks exploded into the air and vanished.

  Crap! Taliya was pretty sure her emotions hadn’t caused a magical outburst since she was a child. Wasn’t she was supposed to be old enough to control that sort of thing now? But darn it, it felt like fire was burning her insides whenever she was close to him, and that fire would not be smothered.

  “I need to tell you something,” Nik said as they began moving slowly in time to the music.

  Oh, Seelie Queen, here it came. Their first conversation since That Moment. Would he say it was a mistake? Maybe she should try to beat him to it. Put all her feelings out there so he’d have no doubt about how she felt. Look, Nik, I like you. Obviously. That’s why I kissed you. We’ve been friends for ages, but now I can’t stop thinking of you as … more. A lot more.

  “I need to tell you several somethings, actually,” Nik added as their slow dancing took them near the edge of the room.

  “Maybe I should go first,” Taliya blurted.

  “No, wait, it isn’t actually about—”

  A strong grip wrapped itself around Taliya’s waist and tugged backward. She gasped as something yanked her through the wall of trees surrounding the dining room. A second later she was outside in the semi-dark garden, impossibly strong arms encircling her waist, and a solid body against her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but one of those arms moved swiftly upward, and a gloved hand covered her mouth. She wriggled and kicked and thrust backward with her elbows, but she was nowhere near strong enough to break free. Her attacker began to drag her away.

  Then through the wall of trees jumped Nik. Taliya assumed he would yell for help, but Nik ran straight for her. His fist punched forward without hesitation, narrowly missing her face and connecting with something just behind her head. She heard a groan, and her assailant’s grip loosened. Nik tugged her forward, and she stumbled past him and fell onto her knees. She pushed herself up and turned just as a polka-dot blur dashed past her.

  “Sasha!” Taliya gasped, her hand in the air as if she could reach her friend and tug her back to safety. But with a savage cry, Sasha ploughed forward. She slashed both hands through the air, and in her grip appeared knives that glittered and glowed like a thousand burning diamonds melded together.

  There were two men now, each with a dark mask over his face, and Nik was kicking, hitting and spinning in an expert dance of feet and fists and flashes of bright, sparkling weapons. Weapons that shouldn’t be anywhere near Taliya’s two best friends. Sasha darted around Nik, throwing both kn
ives at the men and then pushing a pulse of sparks through the air. Her magic struck one of the men in the chest and threw him to the ground.

  Without pause, Sasha spun around and raced toward Taliya. “Get back inside!” she yelled. Taliya was about to obey, but then a figure rose up behind Sasha. The man who’d been knocked down was up already, and he was running. Gaining on Sasha. Taliya shouted a warning just as the man lunged at Sasha and pulled her to the ground.

  “Sasha!” Taliya screamed, running forward without thinking. The man kicked Sasha aside and rolled out of reach of the glowing blade that appeared in her hand. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Taliya, swiftly wrapping an arm around her neck. As she tore at his arm and gasped for breath, he held up a stylus and wrote enchanted words upon the air itself. The air rippled away, revealing a doorway that led into the dark nothingness of the faerie paths.

  “Taliya!” came Nik’s shout from somewhere behind her. But the masked man dove into the faerie paths with her, and the yawning darkness swallowed them whole.

  * * *

  Taliya and her attacker dropped out of the faerie paths onto a floor that wasn’t nearly soft enough. Taliya coughed and gasped for air and scrambled away from the man. Above her on the ceiling, the edges of the opening they’d fallen through rippled and spread toward each other, slowly closing the doorway to the faerie paths. Climbing to her feet, Taliya realized they were in the music room of her parents’ home—but the man in the mask stood between her and the closed door.

  She backed into the grand piano and held onto it for support. “You’d better let me go,” she said, glad to hear that her voice wasn’t shaking as much as she was. “My friends will be here in no time at all, and they’ll bring the rest of the guards with them.”

  “Will they? But they don’t know where we are, my dear.” With a wicked grin, the man removed his mask and dropped it onto the floor.

 

‹ Prev