by Anthea Sharp
Worry creased the bard’s forehead. “The days grow short - but there is still time.”
“Time for what?” Jennet asked. “What’s going on?”
“Come sit with me,” Thomas said. “I will tell you what I know.”
He took up his guitar, and then leaned against the weathered standing stone. Bits of melody drifted around them as he strummed the strings, coaxed free by his nimble fingers.
Jennet sank down beside him, but Tam remained standing in the middle of the road, his arms crossed. Thomas continued to play, as if there was nothing urgent or remarkable about the situation - two kids in the middle of a computer game, talking to a man five weeks dead.
“Tam, come on.” Jennet frowned at him. “Don’t you want to hear this?”
“It is better if he does,” Thomas said, still strumming his guitar. “I cannot speak loudly, in case someone, or something, is listening.”
“Fine.” Tam stalked over to them. His green eyes were wary as he glanced at Thomas.
The older man nodded. “It’s good that you have such a champion, Jennet. You’re going to need every bit of his courage in order to win free of the Dark Queen. And you must do so - before the end of the month.”
“But why?”
“Samhain.” Thomas played a minor chord, and Jennet shivered at the sound. “The faeries remember when they could pass freely in and out of the mortal realm, making mischief, taking lovers, sowing ill deeds and magic in their wake. The Dark Queen has promised them that time will come again.”
“So, what happens at the end of October?” Tam asked. Then he shook his head. “You’re kidding me. This is some cheap horror vid isn’t it? Something creepy happens on Halloween?”
“It is much older and deeper than that,” Thomas said. “All Hallow’s Eve is a time when the walls between the worlds grow thin. The time when a gateway to the human world could be opened. Under the right circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” Jennet asked, swallowing the fear climbing up her throat. She was afraid she already knew the answer.
“A tiend.” Thomas’s voice was sober.
“English, please,” Tam said.
“A sacrifice,” Jennet whispered. “And… I’m it.” She turned to Thomas, suddenly cold to her bones. “Aren’t I?”
He nodded, his eyes infinitely weary, infinitely sad. “The Realm of Faerie is dying. It’s slow, almost invisible, but the rulers of the courts know it is happening. They cannot survive without an infusion of human energy.”
“Energy?” she asked. “Is that what the Dark Queen took from me?”
“And is taking. You must feel it, Jennet, the slow drain on your soul. That is the faeries’ need.”
“Right.” Tam folded his arms. “The computer game is stealing Jennet’s energy. Faeries and dead guys and sacrifices. Come on, Jennet, this isn’t Thomas. It’s some broken NPC.”
“Wait.” She glared at him. “We need to hear this, to figure out what’s going on.” She focused back on Thomas. “So, the faeries are some kind of psychic vampires? I don’t remember reading anything about that.”
Thomas kept strumming his guitar, the chords a soft backdrop to his voice. “These are desperate times for them, Jennet. And human energy can mean many things. A dream. A prank. A maiden’s kiss, a bowl of milk, a stolen child. Music. And sometimes, a life.”
“I don’t believe this.” Tam pushed away from them and began pacing. “I mean - this is just a game. A computer program. Stuff like that doesn’t happen in the real world.”
Thomas followed him with a sad gaze. “But this isn’t the real world, is it? The between-places have always been the province of the faeries. Dusk and dawn. The cross-quarters of the year. Why not the space we call virtual reality? It’s as between a place as you will find. Real, but not real. You are here, but not quite here. And here does not quite exist.”
His words fell like stones into a dark pool. Jennet could see them rippling inside Tam. He was smart - surely he would see that Thomas was right.
The red sun touched the horizon, and a sound echoed across the fields - a low, mournful call that sent a shiver through Jennet.
Tam whirled. “What was that?”
“The summoning horn of the Wild Hunt,” Thomas said. “They will ride at dusk, and the two of you must be gone from here.” He stepped away from the tall stone and slung his guitar over his back.
“What about you?” Jennet grabbed his hand. She wasn’t ready to let Thomas go again, so soon.
“Do not worry for me.” He smiled down at her. “As the Queen’s Bard, I will come to no harm. But you and your knight must make haste.”
“I can’t leave you,” Jennet said.
“You must.” Thomas squeezed her hand, then turned and pointed. “Follow the road east until you reach a stand of white trees. The passage to the next ring is there. And Tam Linn - follow your heart, and keep your lady safe. Now, go.”
Before Jennet could say goodbye, Tam grabbed her arm and pulled her down the road. She twisted, waving to Thomas, but the sun was in her eyes. All she could see was a shadow beside the standing stone.
“Come on,” Tam said. “Your crazy friend said we needed to hurry.”
To underscore his words, the deep horn sounded again. The last bit of light was caught on the crests of the stone walls. Soon it would be twilight. And the Wild Hunt would be after them.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tam kept his grip on Jennet’s arm, kept her moving forward. That was some insane stuff going on back there. The ‘dead’ programmer… he wasn’t sure he believed it, that someone could get sucked into a game like that. And the dark faeries creating some kind of gateway into the human world by sacrificing Jennet? Totally crazy.
Yet it all made a kind of creepy, convoluted sense. He needed time to think.
Right now, though, they needed to get out of Feyland.
“Jennet - what is the Wild Hunt?”
“It’s a ghostly gathering of huntsmen and hounds. According to legend, if you see them you either go crazy or die.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I don’t know what happens if they catch us.”
“We’re not sticking around to find out.”
The last bit of light slipped out of the sky. In the distance behind them, he heard a series of excited yips, then the baying of hounds. The worst part was, he understood the cries. Scent! Blood! Our prey! The Hunt was on their trail.
“Now, we run,” he said.
He let go of Jennet’s arm and took her hand. He didn’t think she’d turn around and try to go back to Thomas, but no way was he letting her fall behind. Thomas’s last words repeated in his head, matching the pace of his running steps, the push of breath through his lungs. Keep your lady safe. Lady safe.
She wasn’t his lady, of course - except in the sense that he was a knight, and her in-game champion. Or something. But no matter what, he would keep her safe.
Maybe the faeries were planning to use her life to open a gateway between the worlds. His blood chilled at the thought. No way did he want the creatures in-game showing up in the real world. Games weren’t fun if you couldn’t turn them off.
“Slow… down,” Jennet panted.
“We can’t.” He scanned the edge of the road. “Do you see anything that looks like white trees?”
A sound like far-off thunder rolled through the air. Tam looked behind them. There was a growing darkness in the sky. Shapes, forming out of the clouds. But these weren’t the kinds of things kids saw in clouds - no dinosaurs or cartoon faces. These were spectral hounds with huge, shining eyes, and half-human figures on galloping black horses. And at the front, the leader of the hunt, a huge dark figure with antlers spiking up above his head. The Huntsman turned and Tam felt his attention focus on them, like a spear of black ice.
The entire Wild Hunt was visible now, a dozen mounted figures riding hard toward them. He could see the flash of hooves, the glowing eyes of the hounds. Panic pushed him and Jennet forwar
d. The breath rasped in and out of his throat. Trees - where were the damn trees? There! A scatter of white up ahead marked the grove.
He risked another look behind them, and then wished he hadn’t. The hounds were too close, tongues hanging from their mouths, black paws eating up the distance. He and Jennet weren’t going to make it.
He let go of her hand and turned to face the hunt. Fear and adrenaline pumped through him as he drew his sword. If he made a stand, slowed the hunt for even a minute, she could get away.
“Go!” he shouted. “I’ll hold them off.”
“No. Not without you.” She stopped running and doubled back to stand with him.
“Jennet!”
“Together or nothing, Tam.”
There was no more time for arguing - the Hunt was upon them. Tam pointed his sword at the nearest hound, waiting for it to get in striking range. The wind whipped Jennet’s pale hair around her face and she raised her staff. She gestured, and a searing white light flashed out from where they stood, making Tam wince.
The hounds yelped and tumbled and the riders milled confusedly, but Tam could feel the Huntsman’s attention still fastened on them.
“Come on! That will only hold them for a minute.” Jennet grabbed his shoulder and they sprinted into the shelter of the trees.
The white bark glowed softly, lighting their way. They dodged around the trunks, and finally, finally stumbled into the faerie-ring clearing. Nothing had ever looked as good as the circle of mushrooms before them.
Jennet leaped into the center, but before Tam could follow, something took hold of his leg and yanked. Pain slammed through his senses and he glanced down to see a coal-black hound, its teeth locked around his calf. He pulled his sword and slashed at the hound, who twisted its body out of the way.
“Tam!” Jennet cried.
She had her staff pointed at his attacker, but he didn’t think she could get a clear shot - not with the way the creature was shaking and pulling at him. He cut downward again, connecting this time. The hound let out a muffled yelp, but didn’t let go.
On the outskirts of the trees, dark figures were silhouetted. Then the leader strode forward, the shadow of his antlers reaching toward Tam. Fear seized him in its strong fist.
He took his sword in both hands and drove it down, point-first. There was a spray of something hot and sickening across his face, and the hound let go with a screeching whimper.
“Hurry!” Jennet’s voice was high and panicky.
He scrambled to the ring, his left leg not quite working. Jennet reached for him with both hands and he managed to get inside without trampling any of the mushrooms.
An angry cry resonated through the clearing. Just before the swirl of golden light surrounded them, Tam saw the Huntsman. His cloak billowed out and his antlered helm was lit with an eerie light. The figure lifted one hand and pointed at them, but it was too late. The Wild Hunt’s prey had escaped.
“Ow!” Tam tried to pull his leg away, but Jennet held him firmly. He slouched back on the gaming-room couch and tried not to look at the bloody bite in his leg.
“Hold still. We have to disinfect this.” Jennet swiped again at the punctures, and he tried not to flinch.
Good thing she’d had an emergency kit in her bathroom. Of course, this was the kind of house that would be well-stocked for any eventuality. A bite from a nightmare hound? No problem. He sucked in his breath as she poked at his injury.
“Hey,” he said, “you’d complain too, if your leg had just been used as a chew toy by some demon dog. How come, when things get rough in-game, we can’t just hit the exit button?”
“There isn’t one.” She frowned. “It’s one of the things the designers are working on. We could ‘escape’ out, but that re-sets the whole game. We’d be back at Fynnod’s cottage again.”
“It might be better than being run to ground by the Wild Hunt. Although - that spell you used on them was pretty effective. What was it?”
“A light flash with a sonic blast. Too high for us to hear, but I thought it would get to the animals.”
“Nice choice - I never would have thought of something like that.”
She smiled a little, then rummaged in the emergency kit. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Just a little plas-skin to get you through.”
She lifted the can and sprayed, the contents sealing and soothing the bite. Welcome numbness spread through his leg, and Tam let out a low sigh. Jennet laid a bandage over his wounds and tucked the can of plas-skin away. When she looked at him again, her expression was serious.
“So, are you convinced now?” she asked. “Feyland is dangerous.”
“Yeah - it’s dangerous. To you, to me, maybe even the whole world, if what Thomas said is true.”
He glanced down at the bandaged bite. There was no fooling himself that he’d somehow gotten hurt on the way home - not like last time.
“I’m sorry, Tam. I never meant for you to get hurt. I was just so afraid, and I couldn’t get back in alone…” She looked away from him.
“I don’t blame you, Jennet. But this isn’t just your fight any more. What if the creatures in Feyland got through? We can’t let that happen.”
For a moment he flashed on a horrible image of the Wild Hunt riding through the streets of the Exe. His little brother, his mom, chased down and savaged by hounds with glowing eyes.
“I… I never wanted to put you in danger, too,” she said, her voice low.
She looked so miserable that he reached out and took her hand. It felt different than when he touched her in-game. The contact with her slim fingers jolted through him, but he didn’t pull away.
“Hey,” he said. “Sometimes we don’t really have as much control over things as we think. We’re in this together now. Ok?”
“All right.” She squeezed his fingers and an odd, breathless silence fell between them.
Tam cleared his throat. “I think I can stand now.”
Still holding his hand, she slowly drew him up. Their faces were close - so close he could feel her breath against his cheek. His heart raced, as if they were running from the Wild Hunt again. Her lips looked really soft.
“Miss Jennet.” HANA’s metallic voice sounded through the room.
Jennet jumped back and dropped Tam’s hand. “Um, yes?”
“Would you like to have the car summoned?”
“Sure, go ahead and call George.” Jennet gave him a weak smile and moved toward the hallway. “Guess it’s time for you to go.”
“Yeah, I should get home.”
Home, where his mom was slowly pulling herself together. He didn’t kid himself that she was better, but every day that she was around and functioning was worth remembering. He stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Jennet down the stairs. At least his leg felt good enough to walk on.
“See you tomorrow,” she said when they got to the door. Her gaze met his and held, her blue eyes clear and full of honesty. “And Tam… thank you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
That night, the Dark Queen haunted Tam’s dreams. Her midnight hair brushed his face while she whispered promises in his ear. She smelled of stars and roses.
Tam woke in the darkness, the scent of her still caught in his mouth. He lay awake, the silence broken by his brother’s soft snores, and tried to catch hold of the bits of dream floating in his mind. It was no use. He couldn’t remember her clearly enough. The only thing left was her laugh, sparkling like moonlight on frost.
When he woke again, sunlight was trickling into the room. His alarm buzzed beside him like an angry bee.
“Get up,” the Bug said from the couch, then yanked his own pillow over his head.
“You, too.” Tam sat up and pushed out of his sleeping bag. He smelled coffee. Mom must be up already - and cheerful as only her medication could make her.
“Good morning to the best boys in the world,” she said, coming in from the kitchen.
She handed Tam a mug of strong, milky co
ffee. Her hands shook, but Tam ignored the trembling and took a sip.
“Thanks - it’s delicious.” It didn’t matter that both the coffee and the milk were made from powder. Coming from her, it was the best thing in the world.
“Mmf,” his brother said.
“Hot chocolate for you.” There was a teasing note in Mom’s voice. She was so much better than he was at getting the Bug up and ready for school. When she was around.
When she wasn’t, Tam always ended up yanking the covers off his little brother and resorting to threats. He didn’t like it any better than the Bug, but nothing else seemed to work.
“Will you be home after school today, or are you seeing your friend again?” she asked.
“Uh.” He shifted and took a minute to find a shirt that wasn’t too dirty from the pile next to his bedroll. “Do you need me to come back right away?”
“Oh, honey.” She gave him a smile that lit her eyes. “I don’t mind either way. Peter and I keep good company. When he’s awake that is.” She cleared her throat, and his little brother suddenly sat up and started pulling on his clothes.
“Maybe I’ll go over to Jennet’s house again. If that’s ok.”
His mom spread jelly on a piece of bread for the Bug’s breakfast. “Jennet. So that’s her name. Do you still spend time with Marny, too?”
“Yeah. Though it’s been a while.” He hoped she wasn’t too pissed about it.
“I’m glad you have friends, Tam. Have fun this afternoon.”
Fun, yeah. Hopefully that wouldn’t include more in-game mangling. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“That would be nice. I’ll make your favorite potatoes. And if your friend Jennet wants to come, she’s welcome. I’d like to meet her.”
Tam stared at the floor. Guess Mom didn’t remember opening the door for Jennet, or the wrist-chip that was so out of place here in the Exe. Didn’t remember the patina of wealth that lay over Jennet, making their place look dingy and derelict in comparison.
He sighed. “Ok Mom, thanks for the offer. I’d better get going.”