by Anthea Sharp
“Miss Carter. Pay attention please.”
She jerked her gaze to the front of the classroom. Mr. Davis, the ever-grumpy math teacher, was pointing at a problem on the screen, clearly expecting her to solve it.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Admitting her mistakes made her squirm, but it was better than trying to fudge her way out of them. Feyland had taught her that much.
“I expect more than that, young lady.” Mr. Davis scowled at her. Then he leaned forward, as though he were seeing her for the first time. “Go talk to the nurse at lunch. You’re not looking well.”
No kidding. Every morning for the last week, a paler and thinner Jennet had looked back at her from the mirror. Getting up was hard - she felt as though she hadn’t slept at all, tiredness weighted her bones so heavily. And last night…
She shivered. Last night she had heard The Hunt, close and insistent. The cry of hounds and horns had woken her, and she had spent the rest of the night curled under her blankets, clutching her old teddy-bear.
The teacher was obviously waiting for a reply, so Jennet nodded. “Yes, Mr. Davis, I’ll do that.”
Not that the school nurse could do anything.
She needed Tam. Needed to get back in-game. Needed to face the Dark Queen and defeat her, once and for all. If only she didn’t feel so weary.
Getting from one class to the next left her out of breath. By the end of the school day, she felt bruised and exhausted. At least she was so slow the hallways had cleared by the time she made her way to the doors.
It was grey outside, and cold. She pulled her coat closer and took small sips of the air. If she breathed too deeply, she’d get a coughing fit.
The grav-car was waiting beside the curb. As soon as George saw her, he jumped out of the car and opened the side door for her. Wow. She must look even worse than she’d thought.
“Miss Carter?” His words burbled, as though he were speaking underwater.
The sidewalk stretched and wavered in front of her, and she suddenly had no balance. Was she flying? Was she floating?
Then strong hands caught her, clasping her upper arms and keeping her from falling. She stumbled forward, and landed against Tam’s chest. Tam. Thank the universe.
She closed her eyes, and felt his arms slip around her. Warm. Safe. He smelled of fresh soap and, faintly, the dust of the Exe.
“Tam,” she mumbled. “I was so worried. What were you—”
“Sh. I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s get you in the car.” His voice held a tender note she’d never heard before.
She pried her eyelids open, and saw Tam exchange a look with George - a look of concern and mutual understanding, as though she were highly breakable. She would have objected, but it was too hard to think of the right words.
Tam lifted her onto the seat, and she saw George nod at him.
“Tam’s coming with us.” It came out a whisper, but she needed to be sure they understood.
“Of course, Miss,” George said.
“I’m right here.” Tam took her hand. “No worries.”
# # #
Fear hammered through Tam’s chest as he studied Jennet. Dark shadows smudged under her closed eyes, her skin was translucent, and she weighed barely more than air. No wonder the barriers between the worlds were growing thin. The Dark Queen was obviously sucking out Jennet’s energy, and fast.
They had to defeat the queen. Today.
They should have done it earlier, that much was clear. It was his fault that Jennet was in such rough shape - but there was no time for regrets now. Only action. And he had done what he had to, made the only choices he could.
The grav-car slid to a stop in front of Jennet’s house, and the driver turned back to look at Tam.
“Perhaps we should summon an ambulance.” George’s voice was concerned. “Just in case.”
Tam swallowed hard. They had to get in-game as fast as possible - but George didn’t know what the hell was going on, or how that would help. All he saw was Jennet, looking like she was thinking of dying.
“Ok,” he said. “But it’s not an emergency.” Yet.
“Then I will call a non-emergency team in.” There was a touch of wry humor in the driver’s voice, as if joking about it would keep the fear at bay.
“Alright, you do that. I’ll take her upstairs.” Tam brushed the back of his hand over Jennet’s cheek. She felt as soft as the sky. “Hey,” he whispered, “Wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered open, pale blue, and she took a deep breath. “Are we there?”
“Almost.” He knew what she was asking. Not if they were at her house, but if they were in Feyland. “You up to walking?”
Behind her eyes, he saw determination. Saw her summon her strength. “Yes. Just…”
He helped her, one hand under her elbow, one at her back. Balanced her as she got out of the car, supported her while she stood on the walk. He tried not to act like he was half-carrying her. It must have worked, because George gave them both a relieved look.
“I’m still making that call,” he said.
“Good.” Because there was always a chance that he and Jennet would lose. Not that Tam would give that thought any room in his brain.
Gently, he turned her toward the house. As soon as the door closed behind them, she teetered. He swept her up in his arms. Good thing she didn’t weigh much.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hold still,” he said quietly. “It’s just the quickest way to get you to the game room.”
He settled her into the sim chair, locked the door, hit the jammer button, and then plugged in himself. Game. On.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
They stood in a pale grove, the usual ring of mushrooms surrounding them. Tam peered at Jennet, but in the dim light it was impossible to tell if her character looked any different.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
She took a hesitant step, then leaped over the ring. Whirling, she grinned at him. “Good! Fabulous, in fact.”
“Glad to hear it. Do you think we’re close to the Dark Court?”
He stepped over the luminous mushrooms and glanced about. The sky above them was dusted with stars and the trees gave off a faint glow.
“Yes, we are,” she said. “Do you hear that?”
He tilted his head. Music twisted through the air, pulling at his senses. Pipes and fiddle and the steady beat of a drum. “Yeah.”
“Come on.” Staff in one hand she stepped forward, down the shadowy path.
Tam hurried after her and took her arm, halting her. “Me first.”
“Really, Tam, I’m—”
“This is my job. Besides, you know in a fight that the tank goes first and the spell-caster stays back. We have to do this right, Jennet.”
“Ok. But don’t go too slowly.”
“I won’t - but I’m not rushing into danger either, alright?” Without waiting for a response, he strode past her.
The shadows under the trees shivered as they passed, but nothing leaped out at them. The music was stronger now, the trees taller and more widely spaced. A silvery light gilded the branches, and Tam glanced up to see a crescent moon floating in the blackness.
There were lights visible before them now, too, floating glimmers that looked like fireflies. The path widened, and Tam curled his fingers around his sword hilt. This was it. The Dark Court of the faeries.
He and Jennet stepped forward, into a clearing. An odd purplish bonfire burned in the center, and figures moved around it, their silhouettes inhumanly graceful or oddly grotesque.
Just past the fire, directly across from where they stood, was a throne made of vines and shadows. On it sat the Dark Queen. She smiled at him.
His breath left his lungs, and forgot to return. Who needed breath when she was there? Half-whispered secrets, the taste of moonlight, a brush of midnight across his senses. Bright stars sparkled behind his eyes.
�
�Tam!” Jennet hissed.
Abruptly, his lungs decided to work again. He sucked in a breath and forced himself to look away. His gaze landed on the Black Knight, standing utterly still in the darkness behind the queen. Now that was an enemy he could fight.
Beside the knight were feasting tables covered with delicacies, and a group of musicians playing sweet music. Fabulously beautiful women with gossamer wings danced, small twiggy creatures swooped past, and laughter chimed like bells in the soft, dark air.
Then, sudden as a slammed door, everything stopped. The music cut off, the dancers halted, the laughter ceased. Tam felt every creature in the clearing turning to look at them, and fear skittered across the back of his neck.
“Fair Jennet. And Bold Tamlin,” the queen said, her voice full of smoke and promises. “Have you come to issue a challenge?”
“We have.” He took a step forward. “We are here to regain what was lost.”
“Is it so?” The queen’s voice took on an edge. “What I have, I won fairly. Now you would take it from me?”
“Not take,” Jennet said, “Win. I need it back.”
“Ah,” the queen said. “Need.”
The way she spoke that single word made Tam’s whole body tighten. Need. It echoed through him.
“Yes.” Jennet sounded scared, but defiant. It was her life they were talking about, after all. “I demand another chance.”
“So much trouble,” the queen said, “for something so simple. Are you quite certain, Fair Jennet? Are you willing to place your champion in such danger?”
“It’s not—”
“Her champion chooses this freely,” Tam said. He would not make this Jennet’s fault, no matter what the queen said.
“Ah. So bold.” The queen breathed the words. “Very well.”
She extended one hand, palm up, and a glowing sphere appeared there, cupped in her hand. Jennet gasped, and the queen laughed her chiming laugh.
“I see you recognize yourself, Fair Jennet.” The queen turned the globe back and forth between her slender fingers. Bright orange and pink flames were trapped inside the sphere, dancing desperately, seeking freedom. “But if you may have a champion, then so may I.”
There was a flash of silver, like a lightning bolt had struck the clearing, followed by bone-shaking thunder. The purple bonfire snuffed out. Tam turned, sword drawn, to find that he and Jennet now stood on a raised, circular platform. The fey-folk gathered around the edges, their expressions avid.
The queen and the Black Knight faced them. Tam’s blood surged, hot and scared. With a sharp smile, the queen lifted her hand.
“Begin!” she cried.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Something was wrong. Jennet felt it in the stares of the watching creatures, in the way her soul flickered within its imprisoning sphere. But most of all, she felt it when she looked at Tam.
He watched the queen with a determined expression, but underneath that was a yearning that scared her. They couldn’t win if Jennet’s champion was only halfway on her side. Ok, yes, the Dark Queen was gorgeous and magical, but she was the enemy!
Even as fear washed through her, the Dark Queen was casting a spell, the Black Knight drawing his sword. It was too late to do anything but fight. She only hoped, to the depths of her trapped soul, that Tam wouldn’t fail her.
A wave of shadows pushed forward from where the queen stood. Jennet raised her staff and sent a bolt of light into it, and another, another. The shadows danced back, temporarily at bay.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Tam and the Black Knight raise their swords and clash together. Tam twisted and jabbed, his armor contrasting brightly with the flat black of his opponent.
“Ow!” A sharp sting lanced her ankle, followed by numbing cold.
Her moment’s inattention had brought the shadows creeping back, to twine, frigid, about her feet. The Dark Queen laughed, the sound like velvet with pins sticking out of it.
Pointing her staff downward, Jennet let out another blast of energy. With a hiss, the shadows receded again. Enough of this. She leveled her staff at the queen and summoned all her fear and anger. Whoosh! A sheet of blue fire sped toward the queen. The queen’s pale face glowed and her hair shimmered with sparks. She threw up her hands and shouted a command.
Jennet’s attack slammed to a halt. Then the backlash hit, knocking her to her knees. Blue fire streamed past, dissipating into the night. The watching fey-folk cheered their queen, in syllables strange and strident.
Slowly, Jennet got to her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her and it was hard to catch her breath. That hadn’t gone well. She sent a glance at Tam, still trading blows with the Black Knight. His shield arm sagged and he wasn’t moving as fluidly as before. As she watched, the knight landed a blow to Tam’s shoulder that made her wince and sent him stumbling back.
The queen raised her hands again, and Jennet jerked her attention back to her own fight.
This time, skeins of darkness flew from the queen’s fingers, as though she were throwing black threads into the air. Jennet tried to knock them away, but they wrapped around her staff, then flowed to her hand and began twining up her arm. Sweet music and poignant regret filled her mind. She was weary. Better to lay down her staff and rest.
“You are too weak, mortals,” the queen said, her voice lilting with pleasure.
“Jennet!” Suddenly Tam was there. His bright blade sliced through the strands clinging to her staff.
She blinked as the Dark Queen’s magic slid away. Then, over Tam’s shoulder, she saw the Black Knight rushing forward, sword raised for a killing blow.
“Look out!” Jennet lifted her staff and sent a crackling bolt of blue-white fire at the knight.
It stopped him long enough for Tam to duck away and pull her with him. Together, they scrambled partway around the circle. When they had a little distance from their foes, they halted.
“Are you ok?” Tam asked. He sounded out of breath.
“Yes. You?” Could he hear the uncertainty in her voice?
He shrugged, keeping his face turned toward their enemy. “We’re not losing.”
“We’re not winning either. Tam - I think we should switch opponents.”
He looked at her then, a flash of stubbornness in his green eyes. “No way.”
“Yes way. As long as the queen holds my soul, I’m weaker than she is, don’t you see? You need to be the one to face her.”
“I don’t—”
“We have to try.” She put all her hope, all her trust, into the next word. “Please.”
He frowned at her, but she could see him hesitate. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement.
“Ha!” Whirling, she shot another bolt at the approaching knight, pushing him back a few paces. “Look Tam, I can handle him. Now go. Go.”
Tam shook his head. Then, giving her a look she couldn’t decipher, he turned and sprinted past the knight, his sword leveled at the Dark Queen.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jennet didn’t know what she was asking - but she was right about one thing. They sure weren’t winning. Without giving himself time to think, Tam charged toward the Dark Queen.
Maybe if he were fast enough he wouldn’t get caught by her ethereal beauty, or fall into the starry pools of her eyes. He had to stay strong, be a champion. He was here to save Jennet.
Holding that thought like a weapon, he kept his sword pointed straight at the queen and kept going. Her lovely face stilled, her eyes widened, and Tam felt his heart rip. It was too late to turn aside. He waited in horror for his blade to pierce her beauty, for a shocked cry of pain to pass those perfect lips.
It didn’t happen.
One moment, the queen was before him, the next, his sword tip was jammed between the vines that made up her throne. He yanked at it, finally wresting it free. Smoky laughter sounded behind him. A touch, light as a whisper, on the back of his neck. He whirled, to find the queen standing there, unharmed.
&nbs
p; “A bold champion,” she said. “I would give much to claim loyalty such as yours.”
Her words sparked pleasure through him. But he couldn’t give in. Squinting his eyes mostly closed, he swung at the queen again. This time, his blade passed through her as if she were made of fog. Her laugh chimed through the air.
“It is not so simple is it, brave knight? But look, see how your lady fares.” She gestured to the other side of the circle.
Jennet was illuminated by blue fire. She had etched a line of it in the ground between her and the Black Knight. He paced before it, unable to cross, while she sent flickering lightning bolts that burned and sizzled against his armor.
“You see?” the queen said, her voice a twilight caress. “They are well-matched. Just as you and I are, Tamlin.”
“No,” he managed to say, but somehow he was looking into the queen’s eyes.
They were fathomless, full of secrets he hadn’t even known existed. The scent of smoke and roses twisted around him, and his heart tightened. Dreams and longing pressed against his skin, against his soul.
The Dark Queen leaned forward. Her lips parted with promise, and for one fatal second he lowered his sword.
“Good,” she whispered, sending her breath into his mouth.
Then Jennet screamed.
Tam wrenched himself away from the queen. “Jennet!”
She was on her knees, the blue fire gone, her staff on the ground beside her, broken. Despair shone in her eyes. The Black Knight stood over her. Slowly, he lifted his sword.
“You have lost,” the queen said. She held up her right hand, showing Tam the sphere that held Jennet’s trapped soul. “Now I take what is rightfully mine.”
No! Defeat was bitter in his mouth, churned in his stomach. His fault. He had let the queen distract him, and she had done something to turn the battle – had used Jennet’s energy against her. But it wasn’t over yet.
“Wait,” he said. “I’ll offer you a bargain.”
“Yes?” The queen tilted her head and watched him, her expression knowing.
He felt as though his mind were moving at the speed of light. There had to be a solution here, a way to save Jennet. He couldn’t let her die.
“You’ve taken Jennet’s energy,” he said. “Practically drained her. There can’t be much left.”
