by Anthea Sharp
Roy snagged a chair and made himself comfortable. “I’m thinking we wait until after midnight to sneak into headquarters, in case anyone’s working late.”
“I’ve asked the cook to throw together some pizzas,” Spark said. “No commando raids on an empty stomach.”
Jennet wasn’t hungry, but she knew Tam was always up for something to eat. She glanced at him, and he caught her hand and pulled her over to sit with him on the sofa. Her dad didn’t say anything. How could he? The reasons he’d banned her from seeing Tam were all untrue. Judging by the shadows in his eyes, he was sorry for it.
“Ok.” Tam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’ve all met Korrigan. He’s the changeling that…” He threw a look at his mother, swallowed, then continued. “That was left in place of my brother.”
“I don’t understand,” Jennet’s dad said.
“Dad, the Dark Court faeries stole Tam’s little brother and are keeping him hostage. Our job tonight is to rescue him.”
“Let me see if I get this,” Zeg said. “The game of Feyland actually leads to fairyland? Which is a real, magical place?”
“Yes,” Tam said.
Zeg pursed his lips, a glint of excitement in his brown eyes. “That’ll be something to see. So, we go in-game, find this Dark Court place, and rescue Tam’s little brother.”
“Except it won’t be that easy,” Roy said.
Spark nodded. “I assume we’re in for an epic battle.”
“Yeah,” Tam said. “Thing is, there are two courts, and apparently they’ve joined forces.”
“I take it this is a bad thing?” Zeg asked.
“Extremely.” Tam sat up straighter. “Which is why we need everyone’s help. Jennet and I can’t defeat the king and queen, not by ourselves.” Roy made a noise, and Tam shot him a look. “Not the three of us either, Roy. You don’t know what the Dark Queen is like.”
“Miss Jaxley,” the metallic voice of the house computer announced, “The cook would like you to know that pizza will be served in the dining room in five minutes.”
“Thanks,” Spark said. She pushed away from the couch. “Come on, everybody. Tam and Jennet can explain about these different courts, and we can plan strategy while we eat.”
Tam made himself stop after eating six slices of pizza. The team was ready to go, everything planned. At least, as planned as they could be when dealing with the treacherous magic of the Dark Court.
Tam hugged his mom’s thin shoulders. She smiled up at him, her expression still half-dreaming.
“Stay here with Marny,” he said. “I’ll be back in a while.”
He hoped.
He didn’t mention Korrigan. Small kindness that his mom didn’t seem to think the changeling was her son. It was hard to tell how much she understood. She seemed to be taking everything in stride, from his missing little brother, to their house blowing up, to the appearance of weird faerie creatures.
He looked over at Marny. “Take care of her.”
“No worries. But Tam, about your house… you know, the apartment behind Uncle Zeg’s has been empty since Grandma Tina passed on.”
“Later.” He chopped his hand through the air. “When we get out of the Realm I’ll deal with it.”
And if they didn’t get out, it definitely wouldn’t matter.
“Ready?” Zeg asked in his calm, rumbling voice.
Spark opened the front door of her mansion and the beta team slipped into the chilly night. Thankfully, it wasn’t spitting sleet, though frost glinted on the pavement and edged the dead grasses of the lawn.
They were walking the few blocks to VirtuMax headquarters. Jennet’s dad and Zeg went first—just two friends out strolling in the winter night. The rest of them would take the long way, and meet up at the back door of VirtuMax in ten minutes.
Tam jammed his hands into the pockets of his battered brown coat, mind racing with contingency plans.
“So we’ll be our avatars when we reach the Dark Court?” Spark asked.
“Yeah,” Lassiter said. “If you enter the Realm using the game, that’s how it works.”
“And if you don’t?” She gave him a curious look.
“Then you’re just yourself,” Jennet said.
Tam could see the memory shadowing her eyes of how the Bright King had taken her in her sleep and transported her to his court. He shivered. He’d been able to use the game interface to go rescue her. Good thing, too—it would have been nearly impossible to defeat the king wearing just the sweats and t-shirt he slept in.
“Headlights,” Lassiter warned. “Looks like Security doing a sweep.”
They’d discussed the possibility, and how to deal with it. Tam drew Jennet close and she snuggled in against his side, while Lassiter laid his arm over Spark’s shoulders. She frowned a little, but it was all part of the plan. Nothing to worry about, just a few Viewer kids heading to Lovebird Lane, away from the all-seeing eyes of the house networks.
The blue and white grav-car slowed, a high-powered beam playing over them. Tam turned his face away. Chances were Security wouldn’t recognize him, but still. Lassiter lifted his hand in a wave, and the light shut off. For once, Tam was grateful the guy was the CEO’s son.
As soon as the car slid away, Spark shrugged out from under Lassiter’s arm.
“Aren’t we almost there?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just around the corner.”
They rounded the block. Ahead, the pale, square buildings of VirtuMax headquarters rose from the flat plain of empty parking lots. Lone splotches of light illuminated the lines painted on the pavement. Lassiter led them around back, keeping to the shadows.
When they got to the overhang sheltering the back door, Tam unclenched his cold fingers. Zeg and Mr. Carter were there, waiting. Mr. Carter quickly keyed the door open.
“All in,” he said. “Stay quiet and follow me.”
Zeg had a small handheld light, a blue LED that washed the walls in a ghostly glow. The six of them moved through the dim corridors of VirtuMax, their shoes making hushing sounds and random squeaks on the polished floor. Tam had a sense of where they were headed, but it would have been impossible without Jennet’s dad.
Of course, they weren’t in the clear yet. The long, dangerous night still stretched ahead.
The corridor terminated in a thick steel door with a strip of red lights over it. A keypad blinked on the right. Mr. Carter held up his hand, and the team stopped.
“I’m not sure I have the newest codes,” he whispered. “I get three tries, in three minutes, to open the door. If I fail, alarms will trigger, both here and at Security.”
“Now you tell us,” Lassiter said. “You know, given a day or two, I could have hacked my mom’s account.”
Tam jabbed him in the ribs. “We don’t have two days. My brother’s in serious danger.”
And he didn’t want Jennet’s dad thinking about how easily Lassiter could get into the system.
Mr. Carter flipped open the clear cover on the keypad and entered a complicated series of numbers. Tam held his breath. The lights over the doors stayed red.
Again, Mr. Carter’s fingers flew over the pad. Again, nothing happened.
“One more try,” Zeg said. “Take your time.”
Jennet’s dad shook his head, his face grim. “I don’t have the right codes. Listen, I’ll stay here, say I was coming in late to get some work done. I’ll stall Security as long as I can. The rest of you get back to Spark’s.”
“No, Dad.” Jennet stepped up and laid her hand on his arm. “I know you can do it.”
“We’re wasting time,” Lassiter said. “Try again.”
“I told you, it’s not going to work. They’ve changed the access codes.”
Zeg flashed his light at the old-style watch strapped to wrist. “Better come up with something. The alarm’s going off in less than two minutes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
The beta
team stared at one another, faces illuminated by the red lights over the door. Jennet curled her nails into her palms until her skin stung. They couldn’t fail, not now.
“Dad…”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You all need to get out before the alarms go off.”
“Wait,” a high clear voice said. “Do not depart.”
“Puck?” Jennet whirled, searching the shadows.
The sprite stepped forward, his clothing like frayed oak leaves, his hair tangled about his face. She heard her dad suck in his breath.
“Lift me toward the mechanism,” Puck said, gesturing at the keypad.
“Can’t you fly up there?” Lassiter asked.
“Too much iron bounds me on all sides. I must save my magic for what is essential.”
Jennet grasped the sprite and held him up before the lock. He weighed little more than twigs and tatters. The magic of the fey folk tingled against her hands.
“Hurry,” Tam breathed.
Zeg checked his watch again. “Thirty seconds.”
Puck shuddered, a leaf trembling before the wind, then reached one long-fingered hand and gently touched the middle of the keypad. Blue fire ran from his fingers and curled about the keys, shimmering. Jennet held her breath. Please work.
“Fifteen seconds.”
Roy jiggled from foot to foot. The fire sizzling over the lock sparked, then winked out. The lights above the door blinked from red to green, and the click of the latch releasing was loud in the tense silence.
“You did it!” Jennet wanted to hug Puck, but he felt way too fragile.
The sprite grinned at her. “Say not that you doubted me, Fair Jennet.”
Jennet’s dad inspected the keypad. A faint sizzle of smoke wafted from between the keys. “Did you break it?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tam said. “We’re in. Let’s go.” He pushed the door open.
“Take care, mortals. Stay brave and true,” Puck said.
“Wait—don’t abandon us.” Jennet’s fingers tightened, but it was like trying to grasp the breeze.
“I shall meet you anon, in the Realm.” A heartbeat later the sprite was gone, leaving nothing but silent air between her hands.
“Puck?” she called. His name echoed in the empty corridor.
Tam grabbed her hand. “He said we’ll see him in there. Come on.”
The team hurried through the testing center, the darkness making the space seem cavernous. Scattered standby lights shone on the equipment—amber, blue, and red pricking the dimness like watching eyes. Jennet squeezed Tam’s hand, glad she had him to hold on to.
When they got to the row of FullD systems, Jennet’s dad went to the wall and slid his hand across a switch. Power hummed, and the sim chairs lit with strips of light, glowing along the sides.
“See you in there,” Tam said, sliding into the closest chair and pulling on his helmet.
Jennet took the next chair, and in moments was ready to go. She hit the command to enter game, then gasped as giddy golden light swirled around her.
The beta version of Feyland was done behaving.
Stomach twisting, she landed in a grassy circle bounded by a faerie ring. Half the mushrooms surrounding her were moon-pale, the other half red, dotted with white. The two sides of the Realm, united.
Tam stood beside her. His silver armor shone strangely, one side lit as if by bright day, the other dusted with midnight shadows. She glanced up to see that the sky above them shared that same disturbing split.
Spark and Roy tumbled into the ring, followed by her dad and Zeg. Roy got to his feet and gave Spark a hand up, while Jennet went over to steady her dad.
“What was that?” he asked, one hand on his stomach.
“The transition into Feyland,” she said.
“The Realm of Faerie, that is,” Tam said. “Congratulations—you’ve just journeyed between the worlds.”
Spark glanced at the white-barked trees enclosing the clearing, their sides lit in turn with fire, with frost. “Is it always like this?”
“No,” Roy said, and Jennet’s dad gave him a curious look.
“This is because the two courts have joined forces,” Tam said.
Magic hung in the air, almost as tangibly as in the Twilight Kingdom. The curling wind bore the distant baying of spectral hounds, mixed with the faint chiming of pixies.
Jennet lifted her mage staff, the blue crystal at the end shedding a faint light oddly similar to Zeg’s LED. She shook her head at the thought.
“Which way?” Zeg asked, pushing back the hood of his grey priest’s robe.
“Here.” Tam leapt from the circle and strode to the moss-lined path leading from the clearing. “Careful of the mushrooms, we might need this circle in order to come back.”
If they came back.
Jennet hurried down the path after Tam. She knew he was burning with impatience to get to his brother, but the team needed to stay together.
At the edge of the grove she caught up with him, and fear fastened in her throat.
They stood at the top of a hill, the Realm spread out before them. Stars shot, flaming, through a midnight sky. Shadows pushed at the noontime sun. Flowers bloomed at their feet, then withered to dust. The land trembled as though it were dying. Or being reborn.
At the bottom of the hill—leagues away yet only a few paces—two pale roads met in an uneven X. A lamp hung from a post at the center, flaring, waning, flaring again. On the far side of the crossroads rose a circle of seven standing stones. The tall menhirs glowed faintly, rough granite suffused with starshine.
Horrible familiarity weakened her knees. Jennet clutched her mage staff for balance.
“Miles Cross,” she whispered.
It was here the Dark Court had brought Tam as a sacrifice to open a gateway to the human world. Here that she had battled for his life against the Dark Queen, and emerged scarred. Her hands ached with the memory of searing fire.
Tam turned to her, his green eyes widening. “This is Miles Cross?”
She nodded. Of course he didn’t recognize the place—it had been night when he was here before, plus he’d been under a fey enchantment.
The rest of the team came up behind them.
“Whoa,” Roy said. “I’ve never seen the Realm look so freaky.”
“Hold hands,” Jennet said. “The way things are fluctuating out there, I think we need to be in physical contact to stay together.”
She vanished her mage staff with a thought, then grabbed Tam’s hand and reached back for her dad’s. She could just imagine half the team disappearing between one step and the next.
“I’ll be on the end,” Tam said.
Of course—he wanted one hand free for his sword.
“I’ll take the other side,” Zeg said.
The beta team stood in a ragged line above the coruscating landscape of the Realm of Faerie.
“On three, we run to the crossroads,” Tam said. “Don’t let go, no matter what.”
Don’t let go. Jennet’s palms burned with memory.
Tam counted, and the team took off. The first few steps weren’t bad, then the grass under their feet bucked like a startled horse. Thick vines snaked out of the ground, tangling their ankles. Zeg and Roy stumbled, and Jennet went down. Tam and her dad hauled her up.
“Keep going,” Tam said.
“Ow!” Spark cried. “Get them away from me.”
Jennet looked over to see a half-dozen golden bees buzzing about Spark’s head.
“Don’t panic,” Zeg said, and looped the line, waving his free hand around Spark’s bright pink head. It didn’t seem to help.
“Sizzle them,” Jennet said.
Spark narrowed her eyes. “Get back, Zeg.”
Flame scorched the air in front of Spark, and dead bees fell, cinder-crisp, to the ground. Jennet looked back to the white-barked grove crowning the hill. The team had come halfway down. Ahead of them, the crossroads shimmered.
“Move,” Tam said.<
br />
Jennet’s next step plunged her ankle-deep into a bog. Black muck clung to her foot as she pulled it loose with a sucking sound.
“Nice,” Roy said.
Beside Jennet, her dad foundered to his knees. She tugged at his hand, but he was stuck fast.
“Go on without me,” he said. “I’m not the best fighter, I know that.”
Tam circled around Jennet, still holding her hand, and grasped her dad’s arm. “We need you. And nobody is getting left behind.”
On Jennet’s other side, Spark raised her arm high. Jennet did the same. With Tam’s extra boost, Jennet’s dad pulled free of the dark bog with a hungry squelch. The smell of rotting vegetables filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose against the stench.
“Almost there,” she gasped.
The beta team started forward again. The ground solidified under their feet, the bog and slick grasses disappearing until they ran over a surface smooth as glass. Miles Cross lay a few yards ahead, the lantern at the crossroads shining gold, then black, then gold again.
A fracture formed in the ground between them and the road, hairline at first, but quickly widening.
“Faster!” Tam yelled.
His end of the line reached the crack, now a good three feet across. He and Jennet jumped, her dad and Spark at their heels. Roy landed on his knees at the edge of the now-deep fissure. Zeg leaped, but his foot just missed solid ground. Jennet watched, horrified, as his body tumbled back into the crevasse.
“Zeg!” Jennet tried to yank her hand from Tam’s, straining to get back to where Zeg dangled, his grasp on Roy’s hand slowly slipping.
“Pull.” Tam’s voice was sharp with fear.
“Quick,” Roy said, his face white. “I can’t hold him much longer.”
Tam strained forward, Jennet right behind him. Her dad was a little slower, but Spark pushed against him with her shoulder. Roy cried out as the line stretched, with him as the breaking point.
“Again,” Tam said, and lunged.
Jennet’s arms burned, like they were going to come out of their sockets. How much worse did Roy feel?
With a sudden whoosh the pressure eased and the line staggered forward. Fear clenched her throat. Had they lost Zeg? She couldn’t bear to look.