by Anthea Sharp
“No.” She climbed to her feet. “I’m coming with you. If Wicked Peg comes back, it might take both of us to defeat her again.”
She was not going to let Tam out of her sight.
There was a stubborn set to his jaw, but finally he nodded. “Ok, but let’s stay away from deep water.”
“Yeah - you don’t have to convince me of that.”
They headed upstream, and she was relieved to see the bank flatten out and the river grow shallow. The water ran around large rocks, making a cheerful babble.
“It seems safe,” she said.
“Maybe.” Tam kept one hand on the hilt of his sword and gave the river a wary glance. “At least the bottom’s easy to see - it can’t be more than a few inches deep.”
“You stand guard and I’ll get my sieve.” With a thought, she summoned it, and then braced herself against the surge of weariness that followed. “Maybe if we put mud over the holes, the water will stay in.”
“Anything’s worth a try at this point.” He spoke to her, but stayed facing the river, his eyes scanning the shallows.
She scooped up a handful of dark, gooey mud from the edge of the bank and plopped it in the mesh. So far so good. She smeared it around until it coated the inside of the sieve then, fingers crossed, carefully scooped up some water.
For a second, it held. Then her triumph turned to disappointment as the mud dissolved. Brown water ran out the bottom, and the sieve emptied.
“Great,” she said. “Now what?”
A trill of birdsong filled the air, and Tam jerked his head up. He nodded, then turned to her, a smile in his eyes. “Skyward’s back. He says it’s safe here. And he says to use ashes in the sieve.”
“Ashes? Like, from a fire?”
“That’s right.”
Another flurry of chirping, and this time Jennet saw Skyward, perched on a nearby branch. Ashes, hm? She thought a moment, letting her mind come up with the picture. Ashes - thick gray flakes that would lie over the mesh, with the weight of the water holding them in place.
“It could work.” Holding her sieve out, she imagined ashes settling into it, covering the holes. In an instant, the thought became reality. She swayed. “There. The tricky part will be scooping the water in without dislodging them.”
“We can do it.” Tam sounded completely confident. He summoned ashes into his sieve, then marched to the edge of the water and tilted it into a quiet eddy of current. His lips curved into a full smile as he held up his sieve, brimming with water. “Quest complete.”
The hardest part was trudging back to Fynnod’s without spilling the water. Skyward kept pace with them, twittering what Jennet imagined was encouragement. When they reached the thatched cottage, Fynnod was sitting in his usual place on the front steps. He watched them approach, his close-set eyes gleaming. She let out a silent breath of relief. Their earlier misadventure with the milk hadn’t ruined the quest, after all.
“Greetings, Fynnod.” Jennet gave him the proper words.
“Fair Jennet. Knight Tamlin. Have you completed the quest I set you?”
“We have,” Tam said, stepping forward. The sky reflected off the water brimming in his sieve, a circle of blue bounded by metal.
The Brownie nodded, his ears flapping at the movement. “Then you have won access to the second circle. Prepare yourselves.”
“Hold on,” she whispered to Tam. “He’s going to transport us there.”
A golden glow surrounded them, and she caught a glimpse of Tam’s surprised face. Then the world spun, a sudden vortex of glittering light. She reached, blindly, and caught Tam’s hand in her own. It wasn’t dangerous, traveling the rings, but it could be disorienting your first time.
The whirling stopped, the light dissipating to show a deep forest. As usual, they stood in the center of a ring of mushrooms.
“Where are we?” Tam let go of her hand and slowly surveyed the dark pines surrounding them.
“We’re at the next fairy ring - the second level of Feyland.” They had done it!
When Tam had defeated the Black Knight, she’d been pretty sure, but this was more proof. She was back in-game - though there was no way they could make it to the Dark Court in just one play session. Even if Dad didn’t get home from work until his usual late hour, it was time to get Tam out of Feyland.
“Now what?” He sounded ready to quest all night.
“Now…” She visualized the interface, mentally pressing the exit button. “Now, we log off.”
“But—” Tam’s protest was lost as the game-world dissolved around them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tam lifted the sim helmet and blinked. He felt like he was waking up from some crazy dream - the kind that left your mind and body sluggish and overly warm. In the chair beside him, Jennet peeled off her e-gloves and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked….
Huh. She actually looked better. Less worn-looking. Her eyes were sparkling, and bright blue. Why had he ever thought they were pale?
She smiled at him, the glow and relief in it making him dizzy. “So - what do you think of Feyland?”
“Really amazing. Those fights…” he shook his head. “I could feel so much in there. Thanks for showing me the Full-D. Let’s do it again - soon.”
Her smile dimmed. “Tam… I really need to tell you—”
“Oh no!” He glanced at the clock blinking on the wall, and then read it again to be sure. “No - it’s not really six-thirty, is it? I promised Marny I’d be home by six. She has to leave by then. Jennet, I have to go. Now.”
He slid out of the chair, apprehension tightening his lungs. What a crappy thing to do to Marny. Hopefully she’d be able to stay a little longer. He didn’t like the thought of the Bug on his own, even for a short time. There was no end of trouble that kid could get into.
“I’ll call the car.” She hit the blue switch beside the sim systems, turning off the jamming field. “HANA?”
“Yes, Miss Jennet?”
“Have George bring the car around front. Mr. Linn needs a ride home, as soon as possible.”
“Right away, miss.”
“I’m sorry,” Jennet said, leading him down the hall. “Time is weird in-game. I knew you had to go, but…”
“It happens.” He had lost plenty of hours in the past, had emerged from simming to find that the whole day had spun away. The consequences this time couldn’t be that bad. He hoped.
Outside it was dark, the air quickly cooling into night. Jennet waited by the grav-car as he climbed in.
“So, see you at school tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for playing, Tam.” Her voice was soft, almost wistful.
“See you.” He let the door slide closed and told George where to head. The man didn’t raise an eyebrow, which, considering their destination, was impressive. He must have some weaponry in the car - maybe even attached to it - if the thought of driving into the Exe didn’t worry him.
It was full dark when the grav-car slid to a stop in front of Tam’s building. He mumbled his thanks and got out as fast as he could. People were watching from the shadows and boarded-up windows - he could feel their stares. He hurried up the rickety stairs, not bothering to look back as the car slipped away.
It was quiet upstairs. Too quiet. A quick glance around the living room confirmed that his little brother wasn’t there.
“Hey,” he called. “I’m home. Come out now.”
There was no response - and the Bug wasn’t any good at hiding. He always laughed and gave himself away.
Tam peeked into the tiny room where his mom’s bed was, did a quick check of the cramped bathroom - nothing. He pushed back the panic creeping up his throat.
There was a note on the dingy table. Tam picked it up, trying to keep his fingers steady. It was in Marny’s round handwriting.
Hey Tam, it’s 6:20 and I really need to head out. I gave your evil kid brother the rest of the Sugar Crunchies and made him promise to chil
l until you got home. Hope you get here soon. And that you had fun.
--M
Tam checked the faded green readout on the kitchen clock. Half-an-hour since Marny left. That was plenty of time for the Bug to get into trouble. Or for someone else to show up, and get him into even worse.
He sniffed - no telltale smell of matches or smoke. Not like the last time he’d left his brother unsupervised. He’d come upstairs after simming a little too long, to find a pile of paper smoldering in the middle of the kitchen.
“Bug?” he called, “Peter?” Maybe his brother would answer to his given name. Nothing, and the fear really began to set in.
Should he call the cops? No - they’d only blow him off. The first few times Mom had gone missing, he’d tried to get them to come help, with no luck. Why would this be any different? He lived in the Exe.
His stomach twisted and he tried not to picture all the hurt his little brother could be in. The Bug was pretty random. The medicine he had to take for his blood disease made him act on impulse - not that an eight-year-old had a lot of sense to begin with. In the last year he’d started with the whole pyromaniac thing. He said the flames made him feel good. Tam was sure he’d hid all the matches where Peter couldn’t find them, but still….
Maybe the people hiding out in the old shop down the street had seen something. They scared the piss out of him, with their crazy yellow eyes and the sickly-sweet smell of whatever they were smoking filling the air, but he had to start somewhere.
Tam was partway down the stairs when he heard it. A muffled clang, then a scrape of metal, coming from close by. He flung himself down the rest of the stairs and pelted to the back. Sure enough, the big door was unlocked. And inside -
“Peter!” He scooped his brother up in an awkward hug. “I was so worried about you.”
“Yeesh.” The Bug squirmed in his arms. “Let go, Tam. And don’t step on anything.”
Tam let his brother slip free, and finally saw what the kid had been doing. Disbelief hit him hard, right in the gut.
“Oh, god.”
He turned in slow circles, trying to take in the destruction. Disconnected cables were half-unwound in coppery spirals over the floor. The visor of his helmet was propped against the open side of his CPU - which looked like it had been visited by a bomb. His gloves were turned inside-out, the sensors dangling like broken spider-webs.
Anger rushed through him, and a horrible sense of loss. “My system! What do you think you’re doing?”
The Bug scuffed his shoe against the cement floor. “Marny said it was all messed up.”
“Well, now it’s really messed up. Damn it!”
He wanted to take his brother by the shoulders and shake him. Hard. So hard he’d fly into as many bits as the computer scattered across the floor. Instead, Tam took a deep breath. The Bug was too fragile for that - and besides, Tam was the one who held the family together.
“I’ll put it back.” His brother sounded on the verge of tears. “I didn’t think it would be so hard to fix, Tam. I thought maybe, you know…” He curled his shoulders forward.
“Aw, man. Don’t cry.” There were enough other things in their life to cry about. “The system was about to die completely, anyway.”
He tried to make himself believe it. And maybe the Bug could actually get the thing up and running again. Stranger things had happened.
“Ok.” His little brother sniffed, his voice still strained.
“Here.” Tam pulled him into a rough hug. “Let’s get you upstairs and ready for bed. You can work on putting it back together tomorrow after school.”
Just before waving off the lights and locking the door, Tam couldn’t help glancing once more at the ruins of his system. So much for his gaming.
Everything around here was falling apart. The stairs were getting more treacherous by the day, the neighborhood was disintegrating, and his brother had a disease nobody could fix. His mom was barely functioning. And now his sim-system was officially dead.
Tam shoved his anger deep down.
“How’d you cut yourself?” the Bug asked, one hand on Tam’s arm.
“What?” He glanced down, to see his brother was right. There was a red gash on his forearm. It wasn’t bleeding, but it was long and deep. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it. Jammy time, Bug.”
While his little brother was getting into bed, Tam went into the bathroom and examined the cut. It throbbed, now that he knew about it. He didn’t remember cutting himself.
For a second, the image of the Black Knight flashed before his eyes. That faceless black visor stayed there, floating in his vision, as if it were looking at him. With uncanny clarity Tam recalled their battle - the moment the knight’s sword had slid into the gap between his armor….
A sick, shaky feeling moved through him. No way. You didn’t get injuries that carried over from computer games into real life, no matter how intense the virtual reality was. It just didn’t happen.
He had cut himself getting out of the grav-car, or downstairs, and just hadn’t noticed. Yeah, that was it.
He gulped back a glass of water, and then splashed more on his face.
“Tam?” The Bug’s voice was lonely.
“Coming.” He slapped some all-purpose ointment on the cut, then went out to tell his brother goodnight. It was time they both got some rest.
“’Night to you, too,” his brother murmured sleepily.
Tam curled into his old sleeping bag, and weariness hit him heavy in the chest. A crazy mosaic of his day flitted through his head. Jennet, smiling at him. The hairy brown man. A ring of pale mushrooms. Marny, stuffing his cash in her pocket. His system, the guts of his life, spilled everywhere.
Just before he slipped into sleep, he thought he heard the Black Knight’s laughter echo in his mind, low and menacing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jennet smiled at her reflection as she got ready for school the next morning. Hair a brighter shade of gold, eyes that sparkled - yes! She felt better than she had in weeks. Somehow, being back in Feyland had restored some of her energy.
Conviction rushed through her. She was going to win, going to make it all the way to the Court and get back the piece of herself she had lost.
Then her mood dimmed, the glint fading from her reflection’s eye. That was, assuming she could enter the game by herself. She’d been so certain she was in - but then she’d tried to go in-game again, after Tam had left.
Once again she’d been stuck, trapped at the first level with no quest-giver and no way forward. Which meant that she still needed Tam.
And she had to tell him the truth about Feyland - that it was an actual place, somehow connected to the real world. She couldn’t ask him to go any further in-game without knowing what he was getting into. Though there was no guarantee he’d believe her, and the thought of telling him made her feel sick. She squeezed her eyes tight and concentrated on keeping her breakfast down.
“It is time to depart for school, Miss Jennet.” HANA’s even tones rang through the bedroom intercom.
“Ok, I’m coming.” Jennet hurried out of the bathroom and grabbed her satchel, then paused in front of her bookshelf. Her dad thought she was crazy for still wanting the paper books that lined the shelves.
“It makes no sense,” he had said, watching the hired movers carry the last of the heavy boxes of books away from their old house. He’d slipped his tablet out of his pocket and waved it at her. “This is where all those books could be - plus thousands more. Instead you’re going to give the workers a hernia.”
“I like old tech, Dad.” Especially since some of those books were too old, too rare. They didn’t exist in e-form. Neither she nor Dad would mention Thomas, or the fact that some of those books had belonged to him. Since he’d died, they never, ever talked about him.
She ran her fingertips along the bumpy spines until she found Tales of Folk and Faerie, a collection that was nearly three-hundred years old. It had belonged to Thomas. She’d
salvaged the aging binding and done what she could to reinforce the delicate paper. With a whispered apology, she slid the book out and tucked it into her satchel. Tam needed to see this, needed to look at the stories and illustrations and have it all start to make sense. The way it finally had for her.
“Miss Jennet? Is there a reason to delay?”
“I’m on my way.” Sometimes she wished HANA would lose that machine patience and sound irritated. Just once. So that Jennet could pretend there was a real person there, who actually cared if she was late to class.
She made it to school on time. The only problem was, Tam wasn’t there. She was sure at lunch, when she saw Marny sitting in the cafeteria. Alone.
Jennet took a deep breath and swallowed back the bitter tang of worry. There could be a hundred reasons Tam hadn’t made it today.
Too bad all the things she could think of went from bad to horrible. Something had happened, she just knew it - somehow the game had harmed him already. Feyland had been completely unpredictable last night. It wasn’t such a stretch to think the game had done something to Tam.
And it was her fault.
Maybe Marny knew something. Jennet grabbed her tray and walked over to where Marny sat. Without waiting for an invitation, she set her lunch down and took a seat. A shocked little buzz of attention followed her, making the back of Jennet’s neck prickle - but there was no way she was waiting until the end of school.
“Hi,” Jennet said.
Marny had set her fork down as soon as Jennet approached, and gave her a level gaze across the table. “You sure you want to be over here?”
“Yes. Unless you want me to leave.”
Marny lifted one shoulder. “As long as the gossip won’t bother you. I don’t care. Sit where you want.”
Jennet looked across the cafeteria, saw the faces quickly turned away, the giggles hidden behind lifted hands. “It’s not like I’m exactly popular. Being a Viewer and all. Listen, do you know—”