by Anthea Sharp
“Stupid faeries,” she said bitterly.
“Dammit.” He craned his neck as the bonfire receded behind them.
They needed flames to activate their talismans, and he hadn’t brought a lighter or anything. Would they have to wander around the Realm aimlessly until they found another source of fire?
The laughter of the fey folk followed them as the White Stag, seemingly oblivious to the struggling humans on its back, entered the forest of gemmed trees. Glowing balls of light chased them, zipping over their heads and twirling in the air.
Two of the pixies descended, whirling about the humans with dizzying speed. One landed on his shoulder, then dived into the sack he carried.
“Get out.” He beat at the sack, half hoping he’d squish the creature.
After a moment it emerged, and Nyx swore it laughed at him, high and annoying like the whine of a mosquito.
Marny swiped at it, but the pixie zipped into the air and rejoined its companions. The glowing creatures whirled once more around the stag, then careened back toward the Bright Court.
“I hate this place,” Marny said matter-of-factly.
“Seconded.” He tried once more to dismount.
No luck, of course. The White Stag bore them steadily through the trees, the radiance of the court dimming as they went further into the forest.
“At least we got Emmie out,” Nyx said. “That was tweaked.”
“No,” Marny said. “That was too easy.”
“Are you kidding me?” He swiveled so he could see her face. Her expression was dead serious. “You weren’t the one who had to fight a fully armed faerie knight. Are you saying they let me win?”
“I’m not saying that—don’t look so insulted. I’m sure the king wanted you to lose, and the Bright Lance didn’t strike me as the sort who’d agree to throwing a fight in favor of a human. But they let us leave—and I’m worried about the agreement you made.”
“The king said we’d get home safely.”
“Actually, no.” She raised her head and looked at the forest, then glanced at the sky above. “He only said we’d pass safely out of his court. And I’m very much afraid this isn’t the way back to our world.”
Nyx surveyed the trees, which had changed from gold and silver to the familiar white-barked ones. Overhead, the sky turned a dim lavender color. As he watched, a single star appeared, and then another.
“Where do you think we’re going?” he asked, though the chill in his chest told him the answer before Marny spoke.
“I think the stag is taking us… to the Dark Court.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A wave of despair-tinged exhaustion rolled over Marny as she said the words. The Dark Court. The last place in the universe they should be, so of course it was where they were headed.
She should’ve trusted her instincts—but there had been no point at which she could have made any other choice, aside from not entering Nyx’s enchanted forest. Refusing to help him hadn’t been an option.
So here they were, stuck on the back of a magical deer carrying them relentlessly toward the Dark Court.
The trees around them turned to gnarled oaks, and overhead the sky grew darker. The stars shone, brilliant sparks forming strange constellations.
“I’m so sorry,” Nyx said, turning partway around so he could see her. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“I suspect we would have ended up in exactly the same place,” she said.
The events had unfolded inexorably, each step forcing them onto the path the faeries wanted them to take. She and Nyx weren’t without resources, however.
Slowly, Marny slid her hand down her leg, until she touched the calf sheath holding her knife. Hoping the stag didn’t notice, she bunched her jeans up enough to get her fingers around the handle.
When she tried to pull it out, though, the knife stayed put, like it was super-glued into the sheath.
“Stupid deer magic,” she said. “I can’t get my knife out.”
A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Can you reach into my pack? Find the throwing stars? They’re wrapped up, but still sharp, so be careful.”
He swiveled back around so she could open the bag slung over his shoulder.
She reached inside the pack, her fingers brushing over a can of Haydeez, a couple protein bars, and his flashlight before she felt a folded piece of silk.
“This it?” She pulled out the small bundle and handed it to him.
“Yeah, although…”
The frown on his face deepened as he folded back the silk. Instead of two plasmetal shuriken, two bright flowers lay upon the silk, their petals gaudy orange and red—and completely harmless.
“That pixie,” Marny said, irritation flooding through her. “I wish I’d had a bug swatter.”
“Oh man, they’re fading.” Nyx poked at the flowers with one finger.
Sure enough, the petals were shriveling before their eyes, disintegrating to dust. A sudden breeze blew up, whirling over the cloth, and moments later all trace of the former throwing stars was gone.
“So much for our weapons.” Nyx grimaced, then balled the silk up and stuck it in his pocket. “This place seems determined to disarm us.”
The Realm of Faerie pretty much sucked, but talking about how tweaked it was would just make things worse.
“At least I still have my knife,” she said. If she could ever get it out of the sheath. “Do you want a Haydeez?”
“Sure. We might as well meet our doom wide awake, right?”
Marny handed him a can, then dug out one for herself. Nasty stuff. She made a face at the super-sweet taste, but kept drinking. They both needed the energy jolt.
Darkness folded around them, the way ahead lit by a pale glimmer emanating from the White Stag itself. A sickle moon cut the sky overhead and white moths fluttered in the branches of the shadowed oaks. Then, faintly, the silence was broken by the sound of music.
Not the jaunty harp tunes of the Bright Court, but a forlorn keening of bagpipes, the low throb of a drum, a minor chord strummed from a sad guitar. Through the screen of trees, Marny glimpsed purple flames flickering, where strange, oddly jointed creatures with glistening wings capered about a bonfire.
The trees encircled a clearing, where nightmares laughed and coiled in the shadows. At the far side rose a throne made of tangled vines, and Marny’s spit dried in her throat.
They were almost to the Dark Court.
“Fire,” Nyx remarked.
“Yeah.” She didn’t hold out much hope of being able to get the stag to walk conveniently past it, however.
“Game plan?” Nyx asked, his voice tight.
“At some point this stupid deer has to release us. When it does, we grab your sister and run.”
She didn’t elaborate. No point in informing any listening creatures of the exact details, but Nyx knew as well as she did that they had to get Emmie and themselves over to the purple bonfire. And then hope Puck’s trinkets worked as advertised.
The White Stag bore them into the clearing and halted directly before the Dark Queen. Marny’s brain froze. She was dimly aware of the beautiful and hideous denizens of the court, the musicians playing softly from the shadows, the gossamer-winged maidens gathered behind the queen’s tangled throne.
But the queen herself stole all thought, all breath.
Black hair framed a face of ethereal, deadly beauty. In her midnight gaze secrets swam, and Marny made herself look away. Getting trapped in the queen’s eyes was most definitely not a good idea.
The Dark Queen wore a gown of shade and starlight, the edge of it trailing upon the ground and curling up like smoke. She regarded the humans a moment longer, and then she smiled. Marny shivered at the bitter frost in her expression.
“Well.” The queen leaned forward. “What a sorry trio of mortals have landed upon my doorstep. One wrapped in dreams, one wracked with guilt, and one afraid of her own softness. You shall do well here, among the shadows.”
“We’re not staying,” Marny said.
The queen laughed, the sound like ice cracking on a frozen lake. “Amusing as ever, you humans. Of course you will remain. You have no other choice.”
She flicked her long, pale fingers and the White Stag knelt gracefully on the velvet mosses before the throne. Marny tensed, and felt Nyx do the same. The bonfire was several yards away, and she forced herself not to glance over at it.
“My queen.” The guitar-playing minstrel stepped forward, and Marny saw with relief that it was the former human named Thomas. “Might you not reconsider? You only need one of these humans to open the gateway, after all.”
Once a mortal man, Thomas Rimer had made a bargain with the Dark Queen. Marny had never encountered him, but Jennet talked a lot about the guy, who had been her dad’s best friend and a lead programmer at VirtuMax. Now, however, he was bound to serve as the queen’s Bard in the Dark Court—forever.
An eternity spent in the Realm of Faerie. Marny shuddered at the thought.
“Bard Thomas.” Displeasure shaded the queen’s voice. “Once again you overstep. Silence—I will hear no more of your counsel on this matter.”
The bard nodded, his weary eyes meeting Marny’s. She pressed her lips grimly together and gave him a nod. At least he’d tried.
Now what? She swallowed back her fear and tried to focus, but her thoughts kept darting aimlessly around like the moths in the trees.
“So, can we get off this thing?” Nyx asked, voice full of bravado. “I need to pee.”
A group of nearby goblins cackled, and Marny shot them a look, hoping that Codcadden wasn’t among them. That was one nasty redcap, and she was relieved he didn’t seem to be present at court. Probably off somewhere ripping the legs from pixies or something equally vicious.
Of course, there were plenty of other horrible creatures she and Nyx would have to face as they dashed for the fire: a black-mouthed banshee, an ogre wearing a belt festooned with wide-eyed, decapitated heads, and any number of clawed and fanged faeries that looked eager to take a bite of tasty human flesh.
Dammit.
“White Stag,” the queen said. “You have fulfilled the bargain struck with myself and my brother. Divest yourself of your burden and rise. I grant you the freedom of the Realm. Both courts are equal in your demesne, and none may harm you without due cause.”
At the edge of the clearing, a red-eyed hound growled. The queen shot a glare in that direction. Marny followed her gaze, and shivered to see the horned silhouette of the Huntsman lurking within the trees. Lean hounds with wicked teeth swirled about his feet like fog, and two elfin knights mounted on flame-footed steeds stood at his side.
“Leash your dogs,” the queen said. “This is no quarry of the Wild Hunt.”
The Huntsman made a gesture of assent and his hounds slunk away, back into the darkness beneath the oaks. He and his riders turned and went with them, and Marny was glad to see them go.
Not that she and Nyx didn’t have enough other enemies to deal with.
“Mortals, you may alight,” the Dark Queen said.
Marny exchanged a quick glance with Nyx, then slung her leg over the stag and gratefully stepped off. She did not ever want to be stuck on a magical mount again. Beside her, Nyx stretched his legs and dismounted.
He tucked an arm around his sister and coaxed her off the White Stag. For a second she swayed, and Marny worried the girl was going to topple over, but Nyx steadied her and she remained standing. Emmie didn’t look very present, though. She blinked and smiled dreamily at the faerie maidens hovering behind the queen’s throne. Good thing she wasn’t looking at the goblins.
The stag leaped gracefully to its feet and bowed to the queen over one outstretched foreleg. Then, quick as a moonbeam, it whirled and bounded out of the Dark Court. Its pale hide glowed against the blackness of the trees, growing ever more distant until it was a speck of star in the velvety dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As the denizens of the Dark Court watched the White Stag disappear into the woods, Marny bent and checked her knife. It was loose in the sheath again, and she let out a quick breath of thanks.
Question was, when should she use it? She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could attack the queen. And they were still too far from the bonfire to make a run for it—especially if Nyx had to carry his sister.
“Well now, mortals.” The queen’s fearsome midnight gaze settled upon them once more. “What a lovely offering you three shall make. Alas, my preparations are not yet complete. Until they are, I offer you the hospitality of my court.”
The watching fey folk laughed, a cacophony of rasping and shrill mirth, overlaid with a silver ripple of chimes.
“We’d rather just be going,” Nyx said. “Thank you so very much for the offer.”
The queen winced a little at his words, but simple thanks were not enough to wound so powerful a faerie.
“Nyx Spenser,” she said. “By your name I bind you to my will. Look into my eyes, and know the enchantment of the Realm.”
“Um, that’s a no,” he said, blinking rapidly.
“Once I call you.” The Dark Queen reached out a long-fingered hand. “Twice again, Nyx Spenser, for none can resist my sway.”
Marny darted a panicked look at Nyx, who was staring at the queen, his expression going slack. This time, he didn’t make a sassy comeback.
“Stop looking at her,” Marny said.
She grabbed his hand and tried to make him turn to face her, but he resisted, his gaze focused upon the queen.
“Thrice I name thee, Nyx Spenser. And the deed is done.” She set one finger under his chin, and he swayed forward at her touch, his gaze unfocused.
“No!” Marny cried. “You can’t have him.”
The queen turned a searing look upon her. “I grow weary of meddlesome mortal girls who think they can snatch their presumed beloveds from me. This one is mine, and his sister as well. But you, Mistress Marny, shall be the first sacrifice.”
Oh, crap. She was in deep trouble now.
And where the hell were the Feyguard? Wasn’t this the very thing they were supposed to prevent from happening?
“Bard Thomas.” The queen snapped her fingers, purple sparks flying from her hand. “Take these humans to your quarters and tend them well until I call for them.”
Expression strained, Thomas stepped forward. “As you command, my queen.”
“Can’t you help us?” Marny asked him, desperation squeezing her chest. She glanced at the bonfire, then back to him, hoping he could read her mind.
Although she wasn’t going to use her talisman and return home, not without Nyx and his sister, so what good would it do to walk past the flames?
“I am sorry.” Thomas shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I am bound to do the queen’s will, much as it might pain me. Now come.”
Thomas took Emmie by the elbow and began leading her away from the throne. Nyx turned and followed, moving like he was half-asleep. For a moment, Marny hesitated. The knife strapped to her leg burned in its hidden sheath, but without Nyx’s help, there was no way the three of them could escape.
A cold wind stirred the branches of the oaks, and despair settled over Marny like a black cloak, muffling her in its folds.
“Mistress Marny,” Thomas said. “Follow.”
There was nothing else she could do, short of throwing herself at the Dark Queen, which could only end in disaster. Steps heavy, Marny went to join the others. They were moving slowly, due to the enchantments laid on both Nyx and Emmie, which let Marny catch up quickly, but also allowed the watching fey folk plenty of time to jeer and chitter at them as they passed.
To her surprise, Thomas seemed to be veering toward the bonfire. Maybe he’d gotten her message after all. Not that it would help. Both Nyx and Emmie were zombies, and Marny couldn’t save the three of them single-handedly.
Do something! a frantic voice inside her insisted. Before it’s too
late.
But what?
She cast her mind back, trying to recall the queen’s words. Something about meddlesome mortal girls saving their—how had she put it? Presumed beloveds.
Swallowing hard, Marny glanced at Nyx walking in front of her. Despite the thousand reasons why it was a bad idea, she had to admit she was starting to fall in love with him.
Was that the answer?
Ahead, the purple flames of the bonfire leaped, smearing the air with violet light. She had to act. Now.
“Nyx.” She caught his arm and tugged. “Nyx Spenser, listen to me.”
He paused a moment, then kept walking. Dammit.
She hurried ahead and blocked his way. The eerie purple fire cast shadows flickering over his face. He tried to sidestep her, but she spread her arms wide and pulled him into her embrace. Thank goodness for her size and strength. Although he struggled, she was able to hold him for long enough to lean forward and whisper in his ear.
“Onyx Spenser,” she said. “I love you. Come back to me. Please.”
He went rigid in her arms, but the look in his eyes remained blank.
“Onyx,” she said. “Onyx.”
There was no sense of recognition in his gaze. Desperately, Marny thought of all the faerie tales she’d ever heard of.
Couldn’t evil spells be broken with a kiss?
Desperate hope trembling through her, she tilted her head and pressed her lips against Nyx’s, willing him to respond. His mouth was cold and set, but a heartbeat later she felt something change.
A shiver went through him, and his lips warmed beneath hers. His arms went around her, and she felt as if someone had just set off a firecracker inside her chest, a sudden explosion of sound and light.
“No!” the Dark Queen cried. “Stop them.”
Cackling, the redcap goblins thronged forward, first among the terrible creatures of the Dark Court.
Marny tore herself away from the kiss and took Nyx by the shoulders. “Wake up—please.”