“You’re not normally quite this bloodthirsty, Lady Janet. Something happen in real life you want to talk about?”
An image of Janae’s high school’s interior, decorated for homecoming, flashed through her mind. Managing her school’s less-than-ADA-accessible facilities was enough challenge on a regular day, but the homecoming committee seemed to have gone out of its way to block ramps, twine streamers around handrails that made it impossible to get a good grip, and cover the floors in unbelievably slippery glitter and confetti.
“It’s been a hard day,” Janae said, thinking of the way her back had been cramping when she’d gotten home from school. Her nanobots helped with the worst of it, but the ghosts of her injuries often haunted her. The Forest of Carterhaugh was the one place she could truly escape them. “I’ve got some stress I need to work off.”
“We won’t defeat this army if we’re reckless and angry. We’ve got to be calm and methodical. Just like we’ve been practicing.”
Lady Janet pulled away from TamLin’s touch. “You don’t have to tell me. We know what we’re doing.”
Thomás said nothing else, and TamLin silently followed Lady Janet as she crept closer to the last known location of Queen Mab’s Knightmares. Cribyn Peak was a tall, jutting mountain with a sheer face covered in grass and exposed rock. The surrounding hills were equally open—no trees or brush. Only the darkness concealed them, but Mab’s soldiers, as well as most of her monsters and beasts, could see better at night than Lady Janet and TamLin could see in the day. There would be no sneaking up, and so, with every step forward, Janae’s pulse beat quicker, her breath came shorter and sharper. The taste of adrenaline was bitter on her tongue.
“Ah-roo!” A brief, sharp howl announced the Knightmares’ presence an instant before Mab’s ghoulish soldiers fell on Lady Janet and TamLin. Lady Janet ducked and scampered aside as a sword swung toward her, reflecting pale light from the sliver of moon hanging in the sky. She swiped her own sword and caught her attacker across his neck, drawing blood.
“TamLin!” She shouted a warning, as if he could have missed the Dire Wolf’s eerie howl.
A bright flash of green—evidence of a decimation spell—was his only reply, and the light from his magic cast their enemies in a macabre glow. As fast as he could flick his fingers, green streaks flew into the enemy hoard—a collection of tall, humanoid figures with pointed ears, sharp fangs, stringy hair, and hollow eyes full of darkness. On the heels of Mab’s Knightmares came the Dire Wolves, indeed as big as draft horses with paws the size of dinner plates and teeth like knives.
“Like we practiced,” Thomás shouted.
“I know.” Lady Janet and her sword danced a lethal pas de deux. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, and her pulse pounded in her ears. Enemies dropped at her feet, but not without inflicting their own damage in return. Blood dripped from a cut on Lady Janet’s biceps, a deep slash over her rib, and a gash on her thigh, but adrenaline dulled her pain, and her energy stores remained more than halfway full, thanks to the restorative spells she’d been hoarding for an occasion such as this.
The hurts she suffered in the FoC felt as tangible as they would have in the real world, but in this realm, she was the master of her pain, and she didn’t avoid it. In fact, she welcomed it. Unlike the car wreck that had twisted her back and taken her leg—an event of chance and chaos beyond her control—each of Lady Janet’s wounds were ones she’d fought for and earned.
At her side, TamLin was fairing similarly. He’d incurred his own injuries—the front of his tunic was stained dark with blood—but his spells still flew fast and hard.
We’re winning, Janae thought. We might actually beat them.
A quick assessment revealed that only three Knightmares and two Dire Wolves remained. If she and Thomás were careful, and if she rationed the last of her restorative spells, it was quite possible they’d make it through this battle alive. Lady Janet twirled, throwing a knife. The blade sliced through the air and buried itself to the hilt in a Knightmare’s throat. Mab’s warrior dropped to his knees, snarling. Then he fell to the ground, dead and silent.
Not bothering to retrieve her weapon, she drew out another knife and turned to swipe her sword at a leaping wolf. TamLin threw a devastation spell, cloaking the wolf in green light, and Lady Janet’s sword cut through the beast’s thick hide like a hot knife through butter. It shrieked a horrible noise that made Janae cringe and smile at the same time. Their months of practice were paying off. She and Thomás worked less like a team and more like a unified being sharing a single mind and heart.
“Only one wolf left!” Thomás crowed.
“Don’t count your chickens yet.” Lady Janet ducked beneath a punch and twisted in time to evade most of her opponent’s sword strike, but his blade bit deeply enough to draw blood. Lady Janet hissed, and her energy indicator flashed, changing from vital green to a warning yellow. “There’re a few eggs here that still haven’t hatched.”
Back to back, Lady Janet and TamLin raised their weapons, ready to address the remaining warriors, but the blast of a horn rang out, sharp enough to make her ears ring. She yelped and slapped her free hand over her ear. “What the hell was that?”
“Look!” TamLin pointed at an approaching light that was brighter than any normal lantern or fey spell. The steady beat of horse hooves advanced, and the two remaining Knightmares drew back from the fight. The Dire Wolf sat on his haunches like a dog awaiting his master’s orders.
“What is it? Who is it?”
“It’s...” Thomás answered, breathless. “Oh, God, it’s Mab!”
A white horse galloped onto the scene, and on its back sat a regal woman in a blue gown, her white hair streaming like a flag. A twisted, thorny crown rested on her head, and her face was neither young nor old, but it could have been carved from ice for all its lack of warmth and color. A massive fey lantern matched her pace, following overhead, casting light to rival the sun.
Janae had seen Queen Mab the previous year at the Forest of Carterhaugh’s annual Wild Hunt when top players had been invited to join Mab on a mythological quest for a giant, white boar. Without an invitation, Janae had only been allowed to attend as a spectator, but she’d vowed to do whatever it took to earn an invitation to the next Hunt. When she had, in fact, received that invitation, she’d thought nothing could thrill her more.
Until now.
With awe, Janae watched the scene unfolding before her. This is totally unreal, she thought. I’ve never heard of Mab approaching anyone like this.
Mab reined her huge, white horse to a stop, its hooves dancing as if the creature were too impatient to fully heed her command, and two more mounted guards trotted up behind her. The riders resembled the Knightmares, but were healthier and less haunted. Their white hair shimmered, and their eyes shone a deep, cornflower blue. “Trespassers,” Mab bellowed, her voice strong and deep. “How dare you invade my lands and attack my soldiers?”
“They attacked us first,” Janae said, her tone full of wonder. She had no idea what to expect. Would she have to fight Mab? How awesome would that be? “We were only protecting ourselves.”
“It’s the duty of my knights to defend my lands against invaders. You should have never come here, and now you’ll pay for your impertinence.” Mab raised a pale white hand and pointed at Lady Janet and TamLin. “Take the boy. Kill the girl.”
“What?” Janae shouted, suddenly outraged. “No way.”
As the remaining Knightmares raised their weapons, TamLin threw another spell, but the magic’s green light died before leaving his outstretched hand. “What—?” he asked, obviously mystified.
The two riders who had come with Mab dismounted at the same moment that the remaining Dire Wolf lunged for Lady Janet. The last two Knightmares surrounded her, but TamLin remained motionless and silent as Mab’s personal guards approached him.
“TamLin!” Lady Janet reached for him but had to stop and parry a jab from a Knightmare’s sword.
“Fight her, TamLin. Fight.”
But it was no use. Mab might as well have been a gorgon who’d turned TamLin to stone, leaving Lady Janet to battle a pair of warriors and a giant wolf on her own. Janae watched in horror as Mab’s guards bound and gagged TamLin and threw him across the back of one horse. Still, Janae fought, but without Thomás’s assistance, she was quickly overwhelmed and unable to pause long enough to chant a revival spell. “Thomás,” Janae yelled, calling the real-world name they’d agreed to never use during a quest. “What’s going on? Why won’t you say anything?”
But Thomás didn’t answer, and the only sounds were the clang of weapons and the grunts and growls of Mab’s ghastly warriors as they attacked.
The Dire Wolf’s claws ripped and tore.
The Knightmares’ swords slashed and cut.
Lady Janet screamed and fought until blood saturated her tunic and her life-force indicator flashed an angry red. Her wounds shrieked a cacophony of high-pitched, dissonant notes inside her head. Her vision turned foggy and gray.
What the hell just happened? she wondered. But no one gave her an answer, and the last thing she saw before her world faded to black was Mab and her soldiers riding away, carrying TamLin with them.
♛
Janae sat at her regular lunch table, chin resting in her hand. She poked at the greasy pizza on her plate, but the thought of actually eating it turned her stomach sour.
“You’ve been like this all morning,” Tara said, dipping a french fry into a pool of ketchup. “I mean, you’re always quiet, but it’s worse than usual. Tell me what’s been going on.”
Janae glanced at her friend, one of a handful who hadn’t been daunted by Janae’s scars or shiny, electronic leg. Tara’s long braids reached down her back, their ends tipped in gold beads that clacked when she moved. When she ran, her hair streamed behind her like a sparkling mane that Janae couldn’t help but envy. She knew the track coach had repeatedly asked Tara to trim her hair into something more aerodynamic, but Tara had refused.
Janae admired her stubbornness. That same obstinacy was likely the reason Tara was still her friend when so many others had disappeared after the accident. Whatever the reason, Janae was glad to have Tara’s steady presence, although she doubted Tara could understand her obsession with Forest of Carterhaugh or her despair over losing her connection with Thomás. “I’d tell you,” Janae said, “but you’ll think I’m crazy.”
Tara tapped the table with a glossy red fingernail. “Try me.”
“So...” Janae hesitated. The misery of losing Thomás felt like an elephant sitting on her chest, suffocating her. But if sharing the burden with Tara could relieve that weight, why not try? “You know that online game called Forest of Carterhaugh?”
“The one you’re totally obsessed with?” Tara rolled her eyes. “It’s the reason I can’t get you to ever go out with me.”
A hot flush rose in Janae’s cheeks. “Well, I’ve been playing it for a long time with this one guy—”
“A guy?” Tara’s brown eyes flashed, and she leaned in, grinning. “Tell me more.”
As best as she could, Janae summarized the past year of playing FoC with Thomás. She explained how quickly they’d connected and what an unbeatable team they made, but how she was still reluctant to share personal details with him, which had led them to completely lose touch after Queen Mab’s kidnapping.
Tara raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve never talked face to face?”
Refusing to meet Tara’s eyes, Janae picked at her cuticles and shook her head.
“Why not?”
Janae motioned to her scars, her leg. “You know why.”
“Not everyone’s like Jacob, you know.”
Janae’s stomach turned over at the mention of the high school’s star cross country runner and her former boyfriend—a boyfriend who’d visited her once in the hospital before quietly drifting away, never returning her calls or texts and avoiding her in the hallways after she’d returned to school. Even now Jacob sat only a few tables away, and he never once glanced at her, not even by accident. His purposeful disregard hurt more than the steady ache in her joints and muscles.
Tara clicked her tongue. “Do you think you’ll ever give Thomás a chance?”
“I want to, but...” Janae shrugged, and Tara didn’t press, even though Janae could sense that her friend was dying to tell her to stop being so pitiful. Or maybe that was her own subconscious talking.
“Can’t you, like, just message him in one of the chat rooms or something?”
“I’ve done that. I’ve asked anyone who might have known him, but no one’s heard from him. If Queen Mab had killed his character, he would’ve shown up again by now, even if it was in a less powerful form, but it’s been two days, and there’s been no word. I think...” Janae glanced at her cold pizza and scowled. The grease had congealed into gross orange globs. She shoved her plate away. “I think he’s being held by Mab. Like, imprisoned, but that’s never happened in this game before. Ever.”
“Well, from the sound of it, no one’s come that close to beating the bad guys like you and Thomás did. Maybe this is a new part of the game? Maybe you’re supposed to rescue him.”
“I’ve considered it, but I’m not sure it’s something I can do on my own.” Thomás had invited her to join his questing party the first time she’d entered the Forest of Carterhaugh, and they’d been inseparable ever since. A chill of panic shivered down Janae’s spine. “I’ve never played without him. I’m afraid the Powers That Be at FoC might have deactivated his account for cheating.” A lump of unshed tears lodged in her throat. “What if I never find him again?”
Tara leaned close and squeezed Janae’s arm. “Don’t think like that. The world is a small place, thanks to the internet. One way or another you’ll find him. I’ll help you if you want.”
Janae rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Finding him in the real world meant opening herself up to the possibility of his rejection, and that wasn’t something she couldn’t risk. Not yet. “We’ve got a massive, multi-player hunt coming up this weekend. Thomás wouldn’t miss it for anything. If there’s any way for him to reach out to me, he’ll find it.”
♛
Janae spent another day fruitlessly searching for Thomás online, and by Wednesday morning, her anxiety had skyrocketed. She was so desperate that she was seriously considering accepting Tara’s offer to help, even if it meant revealing herself to Thomás—scars and all. But when she entered the FoC after school Wednesday, a notification flashed in her peripheral vision, telling her Little_John0902 wanted her to meet him in Primeval Wood.
Like a racehorse straining at the starting line, her heart surged. Surely, Little John had news about Thomás. Everyone in the FoC forums knew she was looking for him, but only Thomás knew Primeval Wood was their regular meeting spot. Because the last place she’d seen Thomás’s avatar was at the base of Cribyn Peak, she’d been reluctant to stray far from that area in case she stumbled upon a clue that might lead her to him, but the message from Little John was the first lead she’d had in days, and she wasn’t going to ignore it.
Quickly, Janae scrolled through Lady Janet’s collection of magic items, found another gryphon feather, and launched into the sky. When she dropped down at the outskirts of Primeval Wood, she traded her wings for her sword. She hadn’t advanced this far in the game without anticipating attacks and traps around every corner. Maybe Little John’s message was legitimate. Or maybe it was another of Queen Mab’s tricks. Janae took nothing for granted.
When Lady Janet strode farther into the woods, Little John’s deep voice echoed among the trees. “Lady Janet. I’m glad you came. I have a message for you.”
“From TamLin?” She strolled father into the shadows and spotted Little John’s hulking green figure standing among the delicate fern fronds. The contrast was startling, and Janae smothered a snicker as a butterfly landed on his big, burly shoulder.
“How is it that two lege
ndary teammates have never established a way to connect outside the game?” he asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“I’ll bet.”
Annoyed, Lady Janet rolled her eyes. “Well, what did he say?”
“He said Queen Mab has made him into one of her personal guards. His account is locked, his nanos have been infected with a tracking virus that crashes any attempts he makes to communicate with FoC players, and the only missions and quests he’s allowed to undertake are to fulfill Mab’s commands.”
“Who is Mab?” Locking accounts and infecting Thomás’s nanos with a virus indicated serious control and power. “Is she some kind of FoC administrator?”
Little John held his big green hands out at his sides. “Most people think she’s just a bot. Maybe she’s something else, but either way, this is the most exciting thing to happen in the four years I’ve been playing FoC.”
“How did TamLin get in touch with you?”
“He reached out to someone in real life and sent a message through a friend of a friend.”
“Did he have any suggestions about how I might rescue him?”
Little John shook his head. “He said only that Mab will be leading the Wild Hunt this weekend, and he’d be expected to ride with her. He said you won’t recognize him, but he’ll be the guardsman riding a white horse. If there’s any hope of getting him back, the Wild Hunt will be your chance.”
“Did you get an invitation to join the hunt?”
Little John rolled his eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it, and whatever’s going to happen with you and TamLin, for anything.”
Janae scrolled through her peripheral menu, preparing to exit, but Little John jerked up his hand, urging her to stop. “I forgot. TamLin said one more thing.” He cleared his throat. “‘Whatever happens, don’t let go and don’t give up.’”
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