Feyland: The Complete Trilogy

by Anthea Sharp

  “Greetings, Royal one. You return to the realm.” The goblin spoke in a high, creaky voice, then looked over at Jennet. “And you have brought a new companion.”

  There was no sign of recognition on Hob’s ugly face, no sign that he was going to point his clawed finger at her and denounce her as an imposter. Her heartbeat notched down from panic mode.

  “Indeed,” Roy said. “Lady Jennet will accompany me on my adventures. Grant her the courtesy that is her due.”

  Annoyance stabbed through her. Great. He’d blown her cover first thing. So much for her first test of the game - seeing if her character name stuck.

  “Roy,” she whispered, leaning close, “my avatar is called Vixa.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot to check - but it’s all good. You can be a lady, it suits you. Anyway, it’s too late to change - from now on the interface will recognize you as Lady Jennet.”

  The goblin turned and bowed to her. “Well met, Lady Jennet.”

  The creature gave no sign that her real name carried any importance. And it hadn’t greeted her as Fair Jennet, the name she was called in her version of Feyland. Maybe this was going to work, after all.

  “We seek a quest,” Roy said, sounding like a bad English actor. The first encounters in Feyland were highly scripted, and he clearly had the role-playing aspect down.

  “A quest?” the goblin said.

  “Aye. Lay upon us some service, that we may prove our worth.” Roy glanced at her, and added in a quieter voice, “This is how the game goes. Do a quest, have an adventure, and it opens up to the next level.”

  She swallowed and tried to keep her tone light and curious. “Until you get to the end, right?”

  For a second, the icy laughter of the Dark Queen echoed around her. Jennet shivered and forced her attention back to Roy.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You go through all these areas, and battle fantastical things, and at the end you make it to the Court.”

  “The Court?” She squeaked the words, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What’s that like?”

  Her hope that Roy’s game was different started to dissolve. Maybe the gender of the final boss changed, depending on the player - which would mean Roy had met the Dark King, instead of the Dark Queen. Either way, the Dark Court was trouble.

  “I have a quest for two such bold adventurers,” Hob broke in. “Heed what I now say.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Roy whispered.

  The goblin snapped his fingers, once, twice, and two lengths of silken cloth appeared on the steps beside him. One was white as snow, the other a deep crimson.

  “Take these,” Hob said, gesturing to the cloth, “and wash them in yon stream ‘til the red becomes white, and the white turns to red. Then I shall deem you worthy of my reward.”

  Another tricky faerie quest. Where did they come up with this stuff?

  “We shall return shortly.” Roy picked up the lengths of silk, then held them out to her. “You better carry them, so I can get to my sword when we’re attacked.”

  Her stomach clenched. The last time she’d done a quest involving water, she’d been pulled under by a water-hag and nearly drowned. Tam had been there, though, and had saved her. Longing ached through her. How she wished Tam were here beside her.

  “We’ll be attacked?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Roy said. “Nothing I can’t handle. We’re in the starting zone, remember?”

  Yeah, well. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, not in Feyland. She took the cloths and wound them together into a compact bundle. Roy wasn’t the only one who could fight, if needed. She didn’t know how the Kitsune magic worked, but she would figure it out. Plus, she had her bow and dagger.

  They headed away from the cottage. Jennet glanced over her shoulder, to find that Hob was still sitting on the front step, knobby knees crossed. Watching them. She was glad when the path curved between two hillocks, taking them out of sight of the cottage.

  “So, Roy, about the Court - ”

  “Sec.” He lifted his hand. “This is usually where the ambush happens. Go slow.”

  He drew his sword and, gripping the hilt in two hands, held the naked blade before him.

  “Um…” She glanced around, but saw only flower-spangled grasses and the curve of blue sky overhead.

  “Don’t be nervous, blondie.” Roy flashed her a perfect smile. “I’m really good.”

  She had her mouth open to reply, when the ground before them erupted. Dirt sprayed everywhere, and three hideous creatures clambered out of the hole. They were squat and ferocious-looking, wearing rough leather armor and carrying long pikes. The one in front grinned, sharp-toothed and evil-eyed, and lifted his weapon.

  CHAPTER EIGHT- THE BRIGHT COURT

  “Bogles!” Roy said. “Stay back. I got this.”

  Jennet retreated a few paces, but no way was she just going to stand there like a noob and watch while Roy fought. She dropped the bundle of cloth, pulled her bow off her back, and nocked an arrow to the string.

  With a guttural cry, the bogles surged forward, concentrating their attack on Roy. He blocked their strikes with his blade, the clang of metal-on-metal ringing through the air. The bad odds didn’t seem to bother him as he ducked, parried, and stabbed.

  One of the bogles hung back, poking at Roy from the edges of the fight. Ok then - that one was her target. She pulled back on the bowstring and sighted down the arrow. Aim for the middle of the creature - surely she could at least hit it? She let the arrow fly. It struck the bogle in the shoulder, and it gave a yelp.

  Not exactly what she’d intended, but better than nothing. Quickly, she snatched another arrow from her quiver, aimed a bit lower, and this time hit the bogle in the leg. It snarled and headed toward her.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw one of Roy’s opponents go down. Her third arrow was nocked and ready, centered on the bogle’s chest, when the ground shook. A cloud of dust billowed out from where Roy was standing.

  “Roy!” She couldn’t see a thing. Coughing, she started forward.

  “Relax.” His voice came from just ahead. “Wait a second. It’ll clear.”

  Sure enough, the dust dissipated fast. In a moment, it was gone - and so were their enemies. Jennet glanced around, but there was no sign of the creatures. Even the path was undisturbed, as if the earth had never belched out bogles to attack them. Slowly, she lowered her bow, then tucked the arrow back into her quiver.

  “That’s it?” she asked. “Where’d they go?”

  “I told you, it’s easy fights. You don’t have to kill things at this level, only injure them. Do enough damage, and they just disappear.” He eyed her bow. “Not bad with the shooting - but you didn’t need to fight.”

  “Hey. It’s how I play.”

  She wasn’t a fan of playing the helpless maiden, even if Roy kept trying to shove her into that role. She’d been getting the hang of the bow, too. Next fight, she’d be able to hit things much better.

  “Whatever.” He shrugged. “Grab the cloth - the stream’s up ahead.” He started forward again, not waiting for her.

  She slung her bow across her back, picked up the silk, and followed. It stung a little, that Roy was annoyed with her for fighting. His self-importance was so big, it squeezed out everyone else around him.

  The path dipped down into a small vale. Saplings grew here, and she could hear the bright chuckle of running water. Lengthening her stride, she hurried to catch up with Roy. He stood by the waterside, illuminated by a beam of sunshine that made the copper in his hair glow. Probably he’d picked that place to stand on purpose.

  “Alright,” he said. “Give me the stuff.”

  Jennet handed over the bundle of silk. Thankfully, the stream was small, maybe two feet across at its widest. The bright water was clear enough that she could see the sandy bottom - no deeps and shadows where wicked water-hags could lurk. On the bank grew delicate ferns and long-stemmed purple flowers shaped like hoods. It seemed peace
ful. She took a deep breath.

  “So,” she said, “what do we do?”

  She half-expected him to suggest they just switch the cloths and tell Hob they’d washed them. But the little goblin would know.

  “I’ll wash the red one, you do the white.” Roy handed her the pale silk. “It’s simple. Dip it in the water and imagine it changing color.”

  Roy knelt and submerged his cloth. She was a little surprised he hadn’t remained standing there like some fancy statue and delegated the menial parts to her. Then again, they were both supposed to complete the quest. It probably wouldn’t succeed if only one of them did it.

  His silk turned a deeper hue of crimson beneath the water - but as he pulled it out, the color seeped away. She expected to see swirls of red in the stream, but the water ran as clear as ever. When Roy finished pulling the silk out, it was pure white.

  “See?” He winked at her. “Your turn.”

  The stream was so cold it made her gasp. Right - she’d forgotten how much sensation was programmed into Feyland. It felt real - it was real, in a crazy way.

  “You can feel the water, right?” Roy smiled at her. “I told you this game was flawless. Ok, now think red.”

  Jennet swirled the white silk under the water and pictured it turning deep crimson. Red as rubies. Red as fresh-spilled blood. Slowly, she pulled the cloth up.

  Droplets ran like crystals back into the stream. As she watched, the white turned a pale pink. Then rose-colored. She held her breath. Red. The silk deepened to scarlet. Kept going.

  “Whoa!” Roy grabbed the cloth out of her hands. “Not black, Jennet.”

  He held it up by the corners. The silk was red, mostly. But the middle was marred by a swirl of darkness - burgundy, shading to midnight at the very center. She shivered.

  “Is the quest ruined?” she asked.

  There was a shadow of uncertainty in Roy’s expression. He stared at the silk a moment more, then gave himself a shake.

  “We’re good. Don’t worry.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  She stood. “Let’s go back.”

  Roy nodded, his face tense, then turned and tromped up the path. This time, he didn’t hand the cloth off to her. Was he worried she’d wreck the quest even more if she touched it? Maybe he was right.

  “Hey,” she said, hurrying after him, “why don’t you tell me more about the game?” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt, either. “This place is amazing, just like you said. You were really good in the fight, too.”

  He slowed down and gave her a warm smile. Too bad he wasn’t this handsome in the real world - though he sure acted like he was.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time playing Feyland,” he said. “But if you think this is sparked, wait til the next time we play, when we get deeper in-game.”

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted there to be a next time, or if she wanted to keep playing with Roy. Then again, none of her questions had been answered. Was this really a different version of Feyland?

  Just when she thought it might be, weird things happened, like the silk turning dark in the middle.

  “You were going to tell me about the Court - ow!” A sharp tug on her hair made her whirl around, hand going to her dagger.

  Nothing was there. Except… she squinted. There were brighter places in the air, shimmery bits that hovered and fluttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one move close to her arm. Ouch!

  She swatted at the air, and was rewarded with a high-pitched giggle.

  “It pinched me! Roy, what’s going on?”

  “It’s just the pixies. They’re harmless.” He looked amused now, instead of worried.

  “They don’t seem harmless.” She ducked as one of the shimmers flew at her face, then winced as her hair was yanked again. “Why aren’t they bothering you?”

  She had seen pixies in Feyland before, glowing winged creatures that were as innocuous as fireflies. They had always seemed more like stage props than actual fey-folk.

  “I guess they like you better,” Roy said.

  “I don’t think like is the right word here.” She batted another glow away. “Ok guys, you’ve had your fun. Now stop.”

  Her answer was a spate of giggling, and a pinch on her thigh. This was getting seriously annoying. She had to drive them off, but her bow and dagger weren’t much help against glowy bits of light. Roy wasn’t much help, either, standing there with his arms crossed and laughing.

  Obviously she was on her own. What could she use against the pixies?

  Her Kitsune magic. She thought back to the character creation interface. Shapeshift, wield fire, and cast illusion. Turning herself into a fox didn’t seem like the right solution, and fire was too drastic. She wanted to drive the pixies away, not torch them.

  Doing her best to ignore the pokes and pinches, she closed her eyes and focused her imagination. She needed something the pixies would fear - an enemy, coming at them out of the sky. She took deep, even breaths, and pictured a hawk circling the thermals above. Sharp beak and talons, the deadly shadow of wings rippling over the meadow.

  She opened her eyes and squinted up. The shape of a raptor was outlined in the sky above them. She’d done it! Grinning, she brought her illusion diving down, talons extended.

  The pixies’ giggles turned to shrieks, their shimmering lights swirling in consternation as the bird attacked. The hawk scattered them, then banked sharply above the tall grasses and began to climb. Two of the pixies hovered uncertainly, but the rest were fleeing. When Jennet made the bird dive again, the remaining shimmers gave a squeak and streaked away.

  She watched until all the glowing specks had disappeared over the hills, then let her illusion fade. Sudden weariness washed over her, and she lowered herself to sit, cross-legged, on the ground.

  “You ok?” Roy asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Just tired. I guess illusion-making takes it out of you.”

  “Wait… the hawk. You did that?”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised. I had to get rid of those pixies somehow. They were severely bothersome.”

  “I’m impressed,” he said.

  There was a look in his eyes that made her uncomfortable - as though she were suddenly coated with sugar and he had a raging sweet-tooth. Jennet hurriedly got to her feet.

  “Anyway,” she said, “let’s turn in this quest.”

  “Ok.” He tucked the bundle of silk under his elbow. “Hob’s cottage is around the corner.”

  He was right, of course. The cottage came into view as soon as they rounded the next bend. The goblin sat on the doorstep, exactly where they had left him. As they approached, he rose and held out his spindly arms.

  “Have you completed the quest I set you?” he asked in his creaky voice.

  “We have.” Roy handed the cloth over, then glanced at her.

  She knew they were both thinking the same thing. Would the quest fail because of her dark-marked silk? Her heart sped, like she’d been running.

  Hob unfurled the lengths of cloth. He held the white one up and nodded, the motion bobbing his long, curved nose. When he picked up the red one, he gave a small grunt.

  “What do I see? How comes this stain upon the silk?” He looked up at Jennet, pinning her with his dark gaze.

  “I…” Jennet swallowed. “I don’t know.” The words came out more like a question.

  Roy stepped forward. “Look. It’s red, right? That’s what counts. Just call it done and send us to the next level.”

  He was arguing with a Non-Player-Character? That was a little extreme - but then, when had Roy ever acted like anything but the center of his own private universe.

  The goblin stared at Roy for a long moment before lowering the cloth. “Very well, Royal one. But take heed - the King awaits his tithe. His patience wears thin.”

  “I’m getting it.” There was a defiant edge to Roy’s words. “Tell him I’ll be there soon.”

  “Soon,” Hob echoed, his voi
ce scraping the word. “But will it be soon enough?”

  Roy folded his arms. “Tell the king - ”

  “Enough.” The goblin held up a clawed hand. “I delivered my message - I do no more.” He scowled. “Your quest is accepted, adventurers. You have won access to the second circle. Prepare yourselves.”

  Roy glanced at her. “Hold on,” he said. “This gets a little wild.”

  Didn’t she know it. There was just time to nod before a golden glow surrounded them. Then the world spun, a sudden vortex of glittering light. It wasn’t dangerous, traveling the rings, but it could be disorienting. To her surprise, she felt Roy reach out and catch her hand. It was an annoyingly kind gesture.

  The whirling stopped, the light fading away to reveal a deep forest. They stood in the center of a ring of mushrooms - still the white-speckled red ones instead of the pale mushrooms she was used to.

  “You alright?” Roy asked, still holding her hand.

  “Yeah.” She pulled away, conscious of his stare on her. Think. What would someone unfamiliar with the game say? “Um, that was weird. So, where are we now?”

  “We’re at the next faerie ring - the second level of Feyland. Want to keep going?”

  She eyed the dark pines towering above them. “No. Let’s log off. I need to get home.”

  A minute later, she pulled off her sim helmet, questions burning through her. As soon as Roy was off the system, she turned to him.

  “The king that Hob mentioned - is he the final boss?”

  “Yeah.” Roy slid out of the chair, not meeting her eyes. “I thought you had to go.”

  “So, we can’t talk about Feyland?” She followed him out of the Full-D enclosure. “What’s the tithe thing you’re supposed to pay? It sounds serious.”

  “Look, it’s just a game.” His voice was cold. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Wow, where had Mister Super-charm gone? Whatever the tithe was, he obviously didn’t want to discuss it. Did that mean it had something to do with the real world?

  She had to talk to Tam, right away.