by Anthea Sharp
But you’re both here, in Newpoint, a treacherous part of her whispered.
Maybe so—but they had a job to do, one that couldn’t afford any complications like messy feelings.
Something glimmered at the back of the warehouse, a silvery light that slowly brightened. As if it were a holograph coming to life, a forest of pale-barked trees appeared, first the outlines, then filling in until a stand of woods populated the entire back third of the space. Leaves stirred in an unfelt breeze, and dark green bushes with lavender-tinged leaves filled in the spaces between the trees. The last part to appear was a carpet of emerald moss studded with tiny white flowers.
Beside her, Nyx let out a relieved breath. “I wasn’t sure it was going to work.”
“Well, it did. Good job, magician.”
“I dunno—the only magical thing I can do is bring things from the game into the real world. I’d rather be able to cast fireballs and levitate.”
“Wouldn’t we all.” She slid to the edge of the couch. “I guess, now that your forest is back, we go into it.”
“Not so fast.” He gave her a long, level look.
“If you’re about to tell me I’m not in any shape to do this, you can just shut it. We go in—together.”
He closed his mouth on whatever he was about to say, and turned his head toward the forest. The trees looked innocent, but beyond them were deeper shadows. Malevolent shadows, waiting for them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nyx clenched his fists, then made himself relax. Marny was hurt, and he was pretty sure the med tech’s command for her to rest didn’t include exploring enchanted forests, fighting magical foes, and helping to rescue his kid sister.
But the determined light in Marny’s eyes warned him he couldn’t dissuade her from coming, and the fact remained that he needed her help. She’d saved his ass in Feyland, and he was beyond grateful she’d shown up when she did. It had taken a lot for her to overcome her fear and enter the game. His respect for her—already high—was now practically off the charts.
“We’ll need to get some supplies together,” he said, glancing again at the glimmering trees.
“I need to let my friends know what’s happening. And see why they couldn’t help us last time.” She pulled her messager out of her pocket and began to write awkwardly, using one hand.
He knew better than to offer his help, plus he had the feeling she didn’t want him to see who she was contacting. If she wanted assistance, she would ask—it wasn’t like Marny to play coy games.
And how do you know what is and isn’t like her? He shrugged the question away. In the few short days he’d known her, they’d already shared secrets, not to mention an experience way outside reality. With more to come.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said, getting off the couch.
They needed to eat, and not just a protein bar and energy drink. It would be stupid to dash off into the woods hungry and unprepared. No matter how impatient he might feel, breakfast came first. Then he’d gather provisions: food, water, weapons. Pain meds. Who knew how long it would take for them to find Emmie?
What if you only wander around in circles, like always? his mind said. He refused to listen. Besides, he had Marny with him this time. She was his secret weapon. Maybe by themselves neither of them had managed to cross into the Realm, but together, he felt they were unstoppable.
Or maybe he was just deluding himself. They’d find out, soon enough.
In the kitchen, he rummaged around in the fridge, assembling the ingredients to make omelets. There was something soothing about chopping up scallions and tomatoes, cracking the eggs and beating them. Little tasks he could concentrate on to keep the edge of panic at bay.
He put water on for coffee, too. Nerves were keeping him wide awake, but he could feel the effects of too little sleep pulling on his brain.
Marny came in just as the toast popped and he was sprinkling grated cheese over the cooked eggs. She snagged the bread out of the toaster, one-handed, and buttered the pieces while he slid their omelets onto plates.
“Smells good,” she said, sitting at the table. “I’m starving.”
“I still owe you a waffle breakfast.” He set her plate in front of her, then settled in the other chair and began to eat. She wasn’t the only one who was hungry—the eggs tasted delicious. He was going to have to make seconds, for both of them.
“After we rescue your sister, I’m holding you to that,” she said, finishing off her toast.
She sounded so confident. Half of him wanted to lean into her quiet strength, but the other half was beating its fists desperately, about to freak out. Stop it, he told himself fiercely.
“Another egg?” he asked. “I think I’ll just scramble this time.”
“Sounds good. And I’ll take a cup of coffee, too. Hey, don’t look at me that way.” She gave him a faint grin. “It’s not poison, like that Haydeez stuff.”
“I thought you were a tea drinker.” He filled a mug for her, then grabbed the carton of cream and set it on the table.
“Mostly. But coffee has its time and place.” She poured a splash of cream into her coffee. “Anyway, I got ahold of my Uncle Zeg. He’ll keep trying to get to us in-game.”
Nyx heard a trace of doubt in her voice. Her friends hadn’t shown up when he was in trouble, after all.
For a second, he thought about asking Durham to come with them—but no. The amount of explanation needed would take too long. It was just himself and Marny.
“Will that work?” He gave the eggs in the pan another stir. “I thought you said we wouldn’t be able to rescue Emmie unless we followed her into the forest.”
“Maybe.” Marny didn’t sound too sure. “Thing is, I’m not a Feyguard, not officially. I can’t move across the boundaries between the worlds like they do. So it’s possible they can come help—but it might also be entirely up to us. It depends on where they took Emmie.”
She trailed off, staring into her mug.
“Meaning?” He dished them up the scrambled eggs, and put more toast on while he was at it.
Marny swallowed. “Meaning if Emmie’s in the Dark Court, it’s going to be incredibly dangerous to try and get her out.”
He so did not like the sound of that. “And if she’s not there?”
“Then she’ll be in the Bright Court—which, frankly, isn’t that much better. The fey folk don’t play by human rules.”
“So either way, my sister’s in trouble.” He pushed the last few bites of egg around on his plate, appetite gone. “How do you know so much about the Realm of Faerie?”
“My friends, and some research on folklore on the ’net. And most of all, this ancient paper book of Jennet’s that’s full of information. It’s basically become the manual to use when dealing with the fey folk.”
“Sounds useful.”
She made a face. “It’s a start, but that’s about it. There’s a ton I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s more than I do. You ready?”
“Yeah.” Marny got up and rinsed off her plate. “Do you have any cloaks lying around? They could be useful disguises, not to mention help keep us warm.”
“Actually, I do.” He and Durham had gone through a hardcore cosplay period, and for some reason he’d brought the box of costuming stuff when he’d moved into the warehouse.
Ten minutes later, each of them cloaked and carrying a backpack of supplies, they stood in the warehouse and faced the enchanted forest.
Marny had one of his Shaolin spears—the one not covered in raspberry syrup—and he’d decided on an array of throwing stars, a long knife, and a pair of nunchaku tucked through his belt for good measure. She’d watched him assemble his arsenal from his weapons collection, one brow raised.
“How come you don’t play a Fighting Monk in-game?” she’d asked.
“I’ve been practicing martial arts for over ten years. Doing something different for a change sounded fun.”
“Well, I’m glad
you’re a black belt in real life. I hope those moves work on fey creatures.”
“They should.”
He refrained from mentioning he was actually a third-degree black belt. No point in boasting. Either his skills would be up for the task, or they wouldn’t.
They’d find out soon enough. He glanced at Marny standing beside him, her face partially shadowed by the hood of her cloak. The curve of her cheek was illuminated by the soft silver light coming from the forest, and her expression was determined.
“You’ll tell me if you need a rest,” he said.
“That’s what we packed Haydeez for.” She sent him a wry look. “I don’t intend to slow us down.”
“Yeah, well, you falling over would do that, so don’t push yourself too hard. You’re recovering from a stab wound, remember?”
“I’ve got my trusty walking stick.” She lifted the spear a few inches.
He’d shown her a couple moves, though she didn’t have a lot of power one-handed. Still, she could poke things, and use the haft for support and balance.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.” The clarity in her voice steadied him.
He gave the quiet warehouse one last glance, then strode into the forest. The moss cushioned his steps, and he could barely hear Marny following close behind. Overhead, the silvery leaves stirred. It seemed to be the same enchanted woods as ever—which was a bad thing if it meant they’d be stuck in a bubble, going around in circles.
And after several minutes, he felt like that was exactly what they were doing. Marny didn’t say anything, but her expression grew more and more serious.
Finally, Nyx stopped. Through the trees, he could just glimpse the inside of the warehouse—the silent dance floor, the empty bar.
“This isn’t working,” he said, despair rising up from his belly.
“It has to.” She sounded fierce. “If a creature could come out, then we can go in. We’ve got to keep trying.”
Her words nudged something in his brain, a memory of his early days when he first conjured up the forest…
“Okay,” he said. “Maybe there’s one thing I could try.”
It was the only thing he could think of. Not letting himself dwell on what would happen if it didn’t work, Nyx reached into his pack and rummaged through his provisions. Careful to avoid the edges of his extra shuriken, he pulled out a protein bar.
“Ah,” Marny said, like she knew exactly what he was doing.
He went a few more paces into the forest.
“Um, hello,” he called, breaking off a piece of bar and setting it on the velvet-green moss. “Want to come out for a treat?”
He straightened and backed up a step, and Marny waited silently beside him, her expression wary.
A shiver of motion, deep in the forest. Please, don’t be spriggans.
The bushes rustled, closer now, and he loosened his knife in its sheath. Just in case. From the corner of his eye he saw Marny take a tighter grip on her spear. Whatever was approaching was almost upon them.
A golden blur darted from the shadows and halted a pace in front of him. Nyx sent up a quick prayer of gratitude. It was the mouselike creature he’d seen the very first time the forest had appeared in his bedroom.
“Hey, guy,” he said softly. “Sorry I don’t have more pizza crusts—but you’re welcome to this protein bar.”
The creature tilted its head, like it was listening, then snatched up the hunk of bar and devoured it in two bites.
“Ask it to lead us into the Realm,” Marny said.
Nyx nodded, then reached forward and set down another piece of protein bar, keeping his movements slow and careful.
“Happy to give you more of this, if you’ll show us the way into the Realm of Faerie,” he said.
With a quiet squeak, the creature darted forward and grabbed the food, munching it down so quickly Nyx didn’t even see its mouth move.
“I hope that’s a yes,” Marny said.
The golden mouse turned and whisked away, disappearing back into the underbrush. It didn’t come out again. Dammit.
“Well,” he said, after waiting what felt like an endless few minutes. “I guess that’s as good a way as any.” He gestured in the direction the creature had disappeared.
“Fair enough,” Marny said.
They tromped silently for a while, the scenery unchanging, and he kicked himself for not marking the trees where they first came in. This was a stupid plan, and he was an idiot to ever believe it could work.
“Look,” Marny said, nodding to their left.
The little creature sat under a purple-edged shrub, watching them with curious, intelligent eyes. Keeping his gaze on it, Nyx broke another piece off the bar and held it out.
Instead of running up to get it, the golden mouse turned and scampered under the bushes. Nyx gave Marny a questioning look, and she nodded. Looked like they were playing follow-the-mouse.
They pushed through the green-leaved bushes, and he kept an eye out for flashes of bright fur. Just when he thought they’d lost their guide, the creature would reappear and cock its head, as if impatient with their slow mortal feet.
“Hey,” Marny said after a while. “The forest has changed.”
He’d been so intent on following the little mouse that he hadn’t noticed, but now he saw that the trees had gotten taller, the sky a brighter blue overhead. Pink and purple flowers dotted the bushes, and orange butterflies darted in and out of shafts of sunlight.
The air smelled different, too, green and moist. A bird sang nearby, a liquid trill of notes ascending.
“Did we do it?” he asked.
“I think so, thanks to your little friend.”
Nyx quickly unwrapped the rest of the bar, then looked around for the mouse. “Where’d it go?”
They scanned the bushes, and then Marny lifted her head, a smile curving the corners of her mouth. “There.”
The golden creature had sprouted feathery dark blue wings and was hovering in a small clearing just ahead. Its fur glinted in the sun and there was a look of faint amusement on its pointed face.
Nyx stepped forward and held out the protein bar.
“Tha—”
“Your help is much appreciated,” Marny interrupted. In a low voice she said to him, “You’re not supposed to thank faeries. It’s a thing.”
“Okay.” He made the creature a little bow, then held up the bar again. “Please accept this token of our, um…”
The creature regarded him from its bright eyes, then swooped over. It took the bar between its tiny paws, then bent its head. He felt the soft brush of its fur and then a sharp sting that made him jump back.
“Hey! It bit me.” He held up his hand. A single drop of blood welled up on his index finger.
The flying mouse gave a high trill, like it was laughing, then beat its wings. Up it went, ascending almost to the treetops. Nyx squinted against the light, but the creature was gone.
“Be careful with that.” Marny nodded at his finger. “Make sure you don’t smear any blood around.”
He nodded and stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood away. The metal tang quickly faded.
“Why’d it do that?” he asked, inspecting his finger. The bleeding had stopped.
“Because it’s a faerie. They’re completely unpredictable. Don’t think they’re your friends. And don’t necessarily assume they’re your enemies, either.”
“Except mostly they are.”
“Yeah. Mostly.” There was something in her voice that made him think she spoke from experience. “Anyway, I’d say we made it into the Realm.”
He nodded, a sudden cold fear gripping him. They had managed to enter the Realm of Faerie—but how were they supposed to get out again?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nyx looked over Marny, but didn’t voice his fear.
The Realm wasn’t going to conveniently dissipate around them like one of his bubble creations once they rescued his sister, but s
omehow they’d find a way out. Those Feyguard friends of Marny’s would help, right?
In the meantime, they were, once again, stranded in a magical forest.
“Now what?” He glanced around, but the golden mouse seemed to have disappeared for good. “I think we lost our guide.”
“Hmm.” Marny met his gaze, her brown eyes full of the usual determination. “You said your sister rode off on the back of a white stag?”
“According to her friend, yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound like something out of the Dark Court.” She turned in a slow circle, peering into the trees, then stopped and tipped her spear forward. “I say we head over there, where the light is stronger. And if Emmie isn’t in the Bright Court… Well, we can deal with that later.”
“Tackle the easier enemy first.” He nodded. “So, we just keep going toward the sunshine?”
“I think.” Marny took a tighter grip on the haft of her spear. “And hope we don’t have to do too much fighting along the way.”
Nyx settled his pack and began picking a path through the bushes, careful to do as little damage as possible. Marny followed, her steps as vigilant as his. Once again, her light-footedness struck him, especially with one arm bound up in a sling.
“Have you had dance or martial arts training?” he asked. “You move well.”
“My grandma taught me the Taualuga when I was young,” she said. “That was pretty intense, even though I never had to perform it.”
“What’s that?”
“A traditional ceremonial dance. My family’s Samoan.”
“Cool.” He’d figured it was something like that. “Do you visit the islands regularly?”
She let out a snort. “The only one who can afford that is Grandma Harmony. Newpoint is the farthest I’ve ever been from my hometown.”
He didn’t know whether to offer his commiserations or congratulations, so he just kept quiet. They walked silently for a bit, and he noted the trees were thinning out, showing glimpses of the sky beyond.
“Do you hear that?” Marny asked.