by Anthea Sharp
She had her tablet out, ready to let George know to come by for her later, when the screen lit up. Message from Tam!
Her legs suddenly soft as dough, Jennet sank down on the steps to read. It was terse, like all his messages, but at least now she knew he was alive.
:Jennet, don’t worry. Need a day or two. Don’t come find me. Sorry. Tam:
Relief blurred into anger. Need a day or two? A day or two? They didn’t have that kind of time. What did he think this was, anyway? Some delusional fantasy of hers? She jumped up and paced to the street. How could he take this so lightly? She could die. Thomas had said as much, and Tam didn’t even care.
Ok, that was unfair. She tried to hold on to the anger, but it started tattering away. Behind its bright red curtain was a darker shape. Fear.
Whatever was keeping Tam, it had to be serious. Even more serious than defeating the Dark Queen. She had no idea what kind of trouble could be that bad. Didn’t even want to imagine.
# # #
Tam powered off his messager and shoved it into his pocket. Good thing the regular part of Crestview had reliable signal. He’d kept his text short enough that it couldn’t be tracked - he hoped. Even if it was safe to say more, he didn’t know how he could explain to Jennet that his life had fallen apart.
He grabbed his brother’s hand. Time to get moving.
“Hey, Bug. Let’s go look at the fountain again.”
It was on the far side of the park, right where they’d catch the bus back toward the Exe. No buses went into their neighborhood, of course, but they could get close, and both he and Peter were used to walking.
His brother smiled up at him, teeth ugly from the chocolate-coated ice cream he had just finished eating. “I like the fountain! Can I go in it?”
“No. That fence is there for a reason.”
Not that six feet of wrought-iron would stop his little brother if he really wanted in. But they had to stay under the radar, which meant no climbing fences and playing in forbidden fountains.
They were watching the water shoot and spray when Tam heard the distant cry of sirens.
“Alright, time to go.” He kept his voice even. Everything was fine. The cops could be going someplace else.
“But we just got here. Can’t we stay a little longer? Please?” His brother looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Extra please?”
Tam tilted his head. The sirens were definitely coming closer. “Nope. We’ve been here all day, anyway. Come on. Race you to those trees.”
Laughing, the Bug took off, with Tam close behind. He could feel the sirens wailing, prickling the back of his neck. When he reached the safety of the woods, he glanced over his shoulder.
The sirens abruptly cut out as two black and white grav cars pulled up to the fountain, lights strobing. Tam grabbed his brother’s hand and ducked behind the closest tree. He was aware of every sensation; the rough bark at his back, the warm, sticky hand of his little brother clasped in his, the breath rasping in and out of his throat. The Bug stayed quiet for once, as if sensing trouble. Which he probably did. Growing up in the Exe, you had to have decent survival instincts.
Tam counted to a hundred, then back down. Nobody had come for them. Were the cops gone?
Slowly, he peered around the tree. Empty grass. The fountain, oddly cheerful under the late-afternoon sky. No cars. No cops. He blew out a breath.
The Bug tugged at his hand. “Is it safe?”
“I think so.”
He surveyed the area again. The faint call of sirens moving away shivered through the air. It sounded like they were going to the other side of the park. Probably the cops weren’t after him anyway, but with the luck he’d been having, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Ready to go home?” he asked his little brother.
The Bug nodded. His eyes were wide, but not with fear, or excitement. Knowledge, maybe, and the good sense to not ask any questions. Had he heard the Wild Hunt last night? Tam could have sworn his brother slept through it, but now he wondered.
They stayed backed-up to the bushes until the bus arrived, then got on, no problem. It was a quiet ride to the outskirts of the Exe. The few other people who shared their ride didn’t pay any attention to the two of them, and the driver was supremely uninterested. The Bug didn’t make a ruckus of any kind, but as soon as the bus turned the corner out of sight, he started hopping on one foot.
“Ow, ow!”
“What?” Tam’s patience was melting like ice-cream.
“I stubbed my toe getting off the bus.”
“Can you walk? Because I’m not going to carry you.”
His brother hopped around a little more, then slowly put his foot down on the cracked sidewalk.
“It feels better. Can we go home? Not to our fort, but really home?” His voice tipped up, and Tam felt the yearning in it. It mirrored his own.
“Not yet. But tell you what. We can walk past it - as long as we stay out of sight.” It was too early to check for the sign that Mom was home and it was safe. But maybe…
“Do we have to go to jail with Mom for the rest of our lives?”
“Mom isn’t going to be in jail much longer. She’ll be coming home soon.” He hoped with everything in him that it wasn’t a lie. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Things are going to work out, Peter. Just a couple more days.”
He couldn’t promise that they were going to be fine. There was never any guarantee of that. Things were going to change though, one way or another, and he and his family were going to wash up on some shore. Whether it was a midnight faerie realm or the hard edges of the Exe remained to be seen.
They cut through the ragged alleys until Tam could see the ramshackle place they called home. See the empty window too. No point in getting closer.
“Tam? How will we know when Mom is home?”
“She’ll hang a yellow shirt up in the window. If she hangs a red one, we’ll know she’s there but it’s not safe.” If she could understand the hints he’d left in his note. If she made it home at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
That night Tam’s sleep was broken again by the low call of the Wild Hunt’s horn, the baying of demon hounds. They seemed closer this time, and he hunkered down in his sleeping bag and tried to think invisible thoughts. Not here. Nobody here.
Cold light was leaking into the sky when he finally fell asleep.
The Bug woke him up early, asking where they were going to go that day. For a moment, Tam thought about dropping him off at school and spending the day sleeping. But no - they had to keep together and out of sight for another day or two. The Bug was way too conspicuous, and the system could easily get to him at school. All it would take was one call from a teacher and, poof - little brother whisked off.
He was not going to let that happen.
So he pried his eyelids open and dug up a couple protein bars for breakfast, then took the Bug to the mall. Peter amused himself by looking in the windows of all the stores, and talking about everything he saw. Even though the money was running low, Tam bought them both ice-cream bars.
If - he swallowed hard - if Mom didn’t get free of the system, he’d need to get a job. Not the errands he ran here and there, but something more serious. A steady job, that also gave him time to look after the Bug.
Sure. And money would just drip down on him from the trees, too.
At least there weren’t any cops around at the mall. He didn’t message Jennet, though he wished he could. Wished he could dive into Feyland with her and fight free of everything, the two of them emerging strong and victorious. Wished he could tell her how crappy his life was, how tired he was of being the glue in his family. Wished he could take her hand and touch the softness of her hair. He needed to feel something soft, in a life that was so full of hardness.
But the messager stayed at the bottom of his bag, silent and dark.
# # #
His sleep that night was filled with restless dreams. The Dark Q
ueen, so beautiful she made his breath freeze, stood before him.
Tamlin, she whispered, in a voice like smoke and snowflakes. She reached out, and her hand was cool on his cheek, her fingertips tingling along his skin. I am waiting for you.
His body yearned forward, but his feet were rooted fast. Frustration climbed up his throat. Why couldn’t he go? He was ready, more than ready to obey her summons.
Laughter chimed about him, a shimmering silver light that coalesced into three faerie maidens, dancing. They pulled scarves made of cobwebs and moonlight behind them. Whenever one brushed against him he felt it, bright and aching. The touch made him shiver with fear, with longing.
The queen stood farther from him now, watching from the shadows, her eyes luminous with mystery. I am waiting.
Tam wrenched forward, but the faeries were gone. Instead, the Black Knight was coming at him, his sword raised. With a shout, Tam lifted his hand, unsurprised to find his own sword there. The two blades met with a furious clang - and he was suddenly awake, heart racing, in the darkness of their makeshift shelter.
A different kind of noise jolted through him - a clatter of metal. The alarm he had cobbled together, a precarious balance of metal scraps across the door, had fallen. Beside him he felt the Bug stir, and he knew his brother was awake, too, and listening.
He groped under his pillow for the knife. Slowly, silently, he drew it out and shifted his grip on the handle. Breath barely stirring in his lungs, he listened. No footsteps. No light. No sound.
Wait. A skittering across the cracked cement floor. A faint rustle. And then laughter, impish and otherworldly. There was something familiar about that chiming sound.
Tam sat up. “Who’s there?”
A pale spark lit in the center of the room, then grew into a ball of light, cupped in Puck’s hand. The sprite sat cross-legged in mid-air, his clothes like tattered oak leaves. Tam heard the Bug draw in a quick breath full of wonder.
“Greetings, mortal boys,” Puck said. He grinned, sharp and feral. “What fancies invade your sleep?”
“I think you know.” Tam didn’t loosen his grip on the knife. “How did you get here? I thought faeries couldn’t cross over to our world.”
“Three days before All Hallow’s, the boundaries grow thin. You have been touched with elfin magic, Tam Linn, and so I come to you. I bring a warning, and an answer.”
A warning. Like he needed the sprite to tell him they were in trouble. On the other hand, Puck had helped them in the goblin caves.
“What is it?”
Puck stood and floated forward, coming to hover a foot in front of Tam’s face. It was hard to tell for sure, but there was a blurring behind the sprite, as if he had wings moving ten times faster than a hummingbird’s.
“The Queen has marked Fair Jennet for her sacrifice,” he said. “Yet in the darkest moment trust your heart, Tam Linn, and make the hero’s choice.”
Whatever that meant. The sprite was as oblique as ever. Tam blew his breath out in an exasperated gust. “Great. Thanks.”
Quick as a blink, Puck zipped close to Tam’s face and gave his nose a painful tweak.
“Ow! Hey.” Tam brought his hand over his face. “That wasn’t funny.”
The sprite’s chiming laughter was joined by the Bug, and Tam divided his glare between the two of them. He should have known his little brother would enjoy the faerie’s tricks.
Puck floated slowly back, the ball of blue light glowing in his palm. “Farewell, mortal boys. Rest well, for the Hunt seeks elsewhere this night.”
Were they after Jennet? Tam rose to his knees. He had to -
“Tam?” The Bug’s voice held a plaintive note.
Right. His brother. He sat back down. Even if he could convince Puck to stay around, he didn’t think the sprite would be a very good choice of babysitter.
“I’m here,” he said. “Not going anywhere.”
The sprite looked at him, with luminous, knowing eyes. “Heed the old ballads, Tam Linn. Your lady awaits.”
“Wait. Which lady…” Tam began, but Puck was gone. Between one breath and the next, he had vanished. Only the afterglow of his light remained, printing blue sparks on the back of Tam’s eyelids.
“What was that?” the Bug whispered. “Was it magic?”
“Yeah. It was magic. You’re dreaming, in fact. Now go back to sleep.”
“But if I’m dreaming, how can I go back to sleep? I’m awake, Tam. Really I am.”
Tam let out a low, quiet breath. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, ok?” And maybe, if he were lucky, his little brother would believe that it had all been a dream.
Tam woke early. The morning air was cold, and he hunched down in his sleeping bag, hoping he could fall back asleep. His thoughts were whirling too much for that to happen, though.
Worry for Jennet circled, trading places with fear for Mom, and the looming shadow of the uncertain future. A future on the streets, looking after the Bug - a future where every night the Wild Hunt rampaged through the mortal world.
At least he could do something about that second worry. And he’d figure out a way to do it today. After school got out, he’d take the Bug over to Marny’s. She owed him a couple favors - enough that he could get the rest of the afternoon free. He and Jennet had to get back into Feyland.
I am waiting. It was a cobweb whisper through his mind.
Did the queen have the power to send the Black Knight after him? Was that what his dream had been about? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Win or lose, he and Jennet would face the queen. Today.
They had better win. The consequences of losing were too dire. Chill air snagged in Tam’s lungs. He would do whatever it took to keep Jennet from harm - even though the Dark Queen whispered in his dreams.
“Tam? Are you awake?” The Bug’s voice was slow and sleepy.
“It’s still too early, Peter. Close your eyes.”
“Don’t want to.” His little brother pushed out of his nest of blankets and sat up.
His brown hair spiked out in funny tufts from his head, and Tam tried not to smile. Although - his amusement dimmed - they didn’t have any running water to clean up with, and Tam had forgotten the hairbrush at their house. Pretty soon the two of them would look, and smell, like the dregs of the Exe. He was already starting to feel that way. Grime and hunger and tiredness had a way of gnawing at you, like a feral dog with a bone.
“Ok then.” Tam rummaged around in the pack by his bed. He pulled out two more protein bars and handed one to his brother. “Breakfast.”
“Ew! I’m tired of protein bars. Can’t we have eggs instead?”
“Look around you. Do you see a stove? A fridge? Don’t be an idiot.” Impatience made him snap the words out.
The Bug was quiet. Then a sniffle escaped him. Ah, damn. Tam scooted over to his brother and pulled him into a rough hug.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish we could have eggs, too.”
“I want to go home. How come we can’t just go home?”
Tam sighed and forced himself to speak gently. Inside, his own eight-year-old self was kicking his heels and demanding the same thing.
“I told you yesterday,” Tam said. “If we go home and they decide Mom’s not well enough to get out of jail, then they take us and send us to a State Home. And that would be even worse than this.”
“Wouldn’t we get eggs there?”
“If we did, they would be grey and slimy. Trust me, Peter. Hang in there. We just have to play fort here a little bit longer.” Please, let it be the truth.
The Bug’s shoulder’s drooped. Then he shot Tam a curious look. “Hey. What was that little guy, last night?”
Damn. He was hoping his brother had forgotten about Puck’s visit. “What little guy? You must have been dreaming.”
“I wasn’t! Tam—”
“Tell you what.” Tam gave the Bug’s shoulders a final squeeze, then folded the empty protein bar wrappers and stuck them in his po
cket. No reason to leave trash around that showed they’d been sleeping there. “Let’s go by our house and see if Mom has left the signal yet.”
He was sure she hadn’t, but he’d rather deal with his brother’s disappointment than his questions.
“Ok,” the Bug said, scrambling out of his blankets.
They went quietly through the broken streets of the Exe. Fog hung in tatters, with no promise of burning off. A shambling figure blocked one alley, forcing them to make a quick detour, but nothing more dangerous appeared. Even the yellow-eyes down the street were silent.
Tam squished down the stupid hope that tried to spring up in his heart. Mom wouldn’t be home. And even if she was, there was no guarantee it would be safe. No use wishing for a yellow shirt hung in the window.
“Tam!” The Bug tried to whisper, but his excitement was obvious. His hand tightened in Tam’s, squeezing hard.
Tam blinked up at their window. Blinked again. His heart squeezed too, like the Bug’s grip had traveled into his chest. There, in the window. A yellow shirt.
“Come on!” The Bug started pulling him across the street.
“Wait. What if it’s not really Mom. What if someone else figured out my notes. What if—”
“Sheesh.” The Bug dropped his hand and pelted up the stairs, with all the confidence of a kid whose world has been restored. He flung the door open and disappeared inside.
Tam followed. He stepped carefully over the rotten tread near the bottom of the stairs. Hope wrestled with fear, like two epic monsters equally matched, teeth and claws ripping into him. He hesitated at the threshold.
“Tam. Honey.” His Mom’s voice was warm and soft and smiling.
She knelt on the floor, her arms around the Bug, and she looked good. Unafraid and peaceful, the way she hadn’t for a long time.
Tam gave the rest of the room a quick glance. No authorities lurking in the corners, no hard-faced counselors ready to take him and his brother away. Just the three of them. Their family. Tears, hot and heavy, reared up at the back of his nose. He sniffed to keep them from spilling over.
Maybe things were going to be ok.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Two days. Two days. Jennet couldn’t get the words out of her head. Halloween was the day after tomorrow. Where was Tam? Was he all right? She hadn’t heard from him in too long.
