by Anthea Sharp
“Mrs. Linn?” Her dad had his hand out. “I’m Steve Carter, and this is my daughter Jennet. Your son was at our house today when the, er, accident occurred.”
Tam’s mom ignored the outstretched hand. “What did you do to my boy?” Her voice was low and full of pain. She turned and fixed Jennet with a hollow expression. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing.” It came out a whisper.
How could she possibly explain to this fragile woman with dark-circled eyes that her son had sacrificed himself inside a computer game?
“Now, Mrs. Linn,” her dad said. “I’ve arranged for you to stay in a hotel nearby, and all your meals until… That is, the hospital will do everything they can to determine—”
“I just want him back,” Tam’s mom said.
Me, too.
The little boy came to stand beside Jennet. He peered at the bed, then turned to look at her. Green eyes regarded her, so much like Tam’s that her heart squeezed tight with pain.
“I’m Peter,” he said. “But you can call me Bug if you want.”
“Hi. I’m Jennet.”
“I know.” He looked at the still figure in front of them. “I think he’s still in there.”
“So do I.”
Peter leaned forward. “Hey Tam,” he said loudly into one ear. “Wake up. Mom will make you some eggs if you do. And your computer is almost fixed.” He turned back to Jennet. “I broke his sim-system,” he said. “Not on purpose. I was fixing it. But it didn’t fix right. Tam says you have a really sparked system.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t want to talk about this. Behind her, Jennet could hear Dad speaking to Tam’s mom. His voice was low and reassuring, and she wished she could take some comfort in it. Knowing more than your parents was a terrible thing.
After a fidgeting moment, Tam’s little brother spoke again. “So, do you know Puck?”
“What?” Shock ripped through her like lightning. She glanced over her shoulder, but the adults weren’t paying attention. “What do you know about Puck? And keep your voice down.”
Peter’s eyes widened, but his reply was soft. “One of those scary nights, when we were in the fort, I woke up and it was still dark out, and Tam was talking to this little guy.” He screwed his face up. “Puck. He was just floating there in the air. He looked like a Pokemon who got old.”
“What did Puck say? Do you remember?” Jennet leaned forward. Her body felt like it wanted to take off, explode into action and run, run.
“Mhm.” Peter nodded. He didn’t say anything more.
Impatience flared, making her chest tingle with urgency. “Can you tell me what he said?”
“Yeah. He said…” Peter cocked his head to one side, clearly fishing for the memory. “He said heed the old ballands ‘cause your lady waits.”
“Anything else?” There had to be something more. Puck was obscure, but he’d give more than this slim hint. He had to.
“Nope. What’s a balland?” Peter’s green eyes were wide, full of questions. If Puck had said anything else, the kid wasn’t remembering.
Jennet wanted to kick something and yell. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut, folded her hands into quiet fists, and concentrated on what Peter had told her. Heed the old ballands. Ballads? That made more sense. One of Thomas’s old books was filled with ballads about the faerie-folk. She hadn’t thought to look through those. They were just songs.
“Are you ok?” Tam’s little brother took her hand. His grasp was sticky and warm.
Jennet opened her eyes. “Maybe. A ballad is an old song that tells a story.”
“What’s a heed?”
“It means to pay attention to something.”
Maybe, just maybe, there was a ballad that could help. She glanced at Tam. His expression was still, his hair, for once, pushed back from his face and staying that way. The machines surrounding the bed gave off steady blips and beeps.
Ok. Halloween wasn’t until tomorrow. There was still time. Crazy hope sputtered to life in her heart. She had to get Dad to take them home, so she could start looking through her books right away.
“Who’s waiting?” Peter asked.
“Who what?” She pulled her attention back to the kid holding her hand.
“Puck said your lady waits.” He gave her a tentative smile. “Are you the lady? I hope you are. Your hair is pretty.”
I hope I am, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
In the grav-car on the way home, Dad talked. Jennet let the words wash over her. He’d explained things to Tam’s mom. Tam’s family would be taken care of, and VirtuMax would pick up the bills.
“Obviously it’s the Full-D hardware.” Dad was thinking aloud. “The wiring, the interface - we have to figure out what’s gone wrong. The company can’t ignore this. We can’t go into production.”
At least the game wasn’t going to be released. But what would happen when the company didn’t find anything wrong with their system? Would Dad believe her then?
Back at their house, they had a quiet dinner. As soon as she had pushed her food around enough to look like she had eaten, Jennet pleaded a headache and retreated to her room. She went straight to her bookshelves and scanned the titles. Where was that old ballad book?
Heart clenching, she pulled books out and piled them in haphazard stacks. There - English and Scottish Popular Ballads. Relief made her fingers tremble as she traced the faded green lettering on the cover. She opened it, wrinkling her nose at the faint musty odor clinging to the pages, and scanned the table of contents.
The ballads were listed by number, not title. She flipped to the section where the songs about the faeries were, and started reading. The Elfin Knight, The Wee Wee Man…
An hour later her head was full of images. Silver bells braided into a horse’s mane, jewel-studded goblets made of red gold, faeries leading humans astray. Humans tricking faeries in return. But nothing, so far, about escaping from the Realm of Faerie.
She turned the page, read the title of the next ballad, and froze. Then reaction set in - a punch to the gut that left her gasping. She blinked, but the words remained, the script indelible on the page.
Tam Lin
Heart thudding, Jennet read the song.
A mortal girl named Janet must rescue her true love from the Faerie Queen. Oh god, how could this ballad be here? How could a song hundreds of years old be about her and Tam? Her hands shook as she turned the page, her mind hazed with disbelief.
The night is Halloween, lady,
The morn is Hallowday,
And for to win me, win me well
Take heed to what I say.
Just at the mirk and midnight hour
The faerie folk will ride,
And they that would their true-love win
At Miles Cross must bide.
Jennet swallowed, the flavor of fear sharp in her mouth. Halloween was tomorrow. And even though she had no idea where it was, she had to be someplace called Miles Cross at midnight. There was enough time for her to go in-game and find it. Except that she couldn’t let Dad catch her - and he’d probably told HANA, and… damn. All right, she’d figure that out later.
Taking a deep breath, she bent over the book and read.
When she finished the ballad, a shiver ran through her. Did the Dark Queen really have that kind of power?
“Jennet?” It was Dad, knocking on her door. “Are you feeling any better?”
She shut the book and slipped it under of one of the stacks around her. “Yes. Come in if you want.”
Dad opened the door, but stayed at the threshold. “It’s getting late. I know it has been a… a hard day, but try and get some sleep. It will help.”
Finding the ballad helped more, but she nodded. “All right. You too, Dad - you look tired.”
He did, tired and sad and old. Pushing the books aside, Jennet stood and went to the door to give him a hug. Even at her age, it was comforting. Probably for both of them.
“Ok, honey.” Dad let her go with a weary smile. “Have a good day at school tomorrow. I’ll get off work early, and we can go see how Tam is doing.”
Even though her mind was clamoring for her to turn on the sim and go in-game, to find Miles Cross, to get ready, she knew she couldn’t risk it. If Dad found her playing tonight, there would be no way she could get back into Feyland. No. She’d have to wait until late tomorrow. If she still had a system to play on, that was.
“Um, Dad? Maybe you should wait to pull out the Full-D systems. So that everything is still there, in place. Just in case…”
She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to argue. If Tam didn’t make it, would the police, or anyone, care if they had removed the system?
Dad frowned. “I see your point. We’ll leave the systems intact for now - though it probably won’t be an issue. Tam is getting the best of care.”
It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too, that everything was going to be all right. Still, her dad was a stickler for the rules. If he said the Full-D was staying, then it would.
One obstacle down. At least she’d have a system to sneak onto. She had the feeling she had to do it exactly as the ballad said - which meant waiting until tomorrow, Halloween, at the ‘mirk and midnight hour.’
All she had to do was make it through the next twenty-four hours. All she had to do was act normally while despair and hope and eerie ballads collided inside her head, so hard that she felt she was about to implode.
“Goodnight, Jennet. I love you.”
“You too, Dad. ’Night.” She shut her door. Sleep felt a thousand miles away.
Somewhere, in the dark, Tam’s body lay quietly, kept alive by the hum of machines. Somewhere, in the dark, the Wild Hunt slipped free, fey hounds baying through the desperate night.
CHAPTER FORTY
Tam stood utterly still as two faerie maidens swirled about him. One fixed gilded oak leaves to the front of his tunic while the other wove a cloak of cobwebs about his shoulders. The faerie glade was glittering with excitement, but none of it touched him. He felt as if there were a layer of fog between him and the world. Between his thoughts and his heart.
In the shadows, Bard Thomas strummed his guitar. Silvery riffs of music blended with the laughter and motion of the fey-folk, and the words of Thomas’s song lilted to Tam.
“Tonight so mirk and deep we ride,
Depart unseelie from the glade,
This Hallow’s Eve the Hunt will bide,
To pay the tiend the Faerie Rade.”
Half of it sounded like gibberish, but it was clear the faeries were getting ready to go somewhere. And taking him with them.
“Brave Tamlin.” The Dark Queen’s voice slid over his senses like midnight silk.
He turned his head to see her standing beside him. Her dress was layers of moon-dappled cloud, with pale glimpses of her skin beneath. The scent of night-blooming flowers perfumed the air with their secrets. He felt dizzy.
“My lady,” he said.
She moved to stand before him, her slim body so close it made his skin vibrate. Her slender fingers caressed his cheek. Then she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Stars exploded through his body, a rush of painful sensation like blood returning to a frozen limb. She tasted of spices and wild honey. Like everything perfect, and forbidden.
An instant later, the kiss ended. Tam clenched his hands. If he reached for her, she would slip through his grasp like smoke, laughing.
“You are strong and fair, my knight.”
“I…” Someone else had called him her knight. For a bare second Tam remembered pale hair, a soft smile - and then the memory was gone. Lost to the dusky magic of the faerie realm.
A hint of sorrow touched the queen’s voice. “A bonny offering you make. Would that I could keep you.”
“What’s going on?” Vague curiosity uncurled inside him.
“You fulfill your destiny, brave knight. And ours. Now - to the final preparations.”
The queen held a mask in her hands. Tam caught a glimpse of gold and crimson laid in opulent patterns. She lifted it to his face, and his vision narrowed. Directly in front of him stood a hairy brown figure holding the bridle of a white horse. Gold and crimson caparisons draped the steed, and tiny silver bells were braided into its mane. They chimed, high and delicate, as he mounted.
Before him, the Black Knight handed the queen up onto a chestnut brown horse. Then the knight mounted his own dark steed and held up one black-gloved hand.
The clearing grew still, the air hushed and expectant.
“Now, my court,” the queen said, her words falling, clear as frozen crystal, into the silence. “Now the gateway lies within our grasp. Now we ride!”
# # #
It was late - way late. Jennet lay in her bed, watching the numbers glow on her clock while her body grew cold and tight with fear. Ten. Ten-thirty. Light still shone from the crack under her door. What was Dad doing? Why didn’t he go to bed?
Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to go, go, go! Jump out of bed and get in-game. Save Tam, before it was too late.
But she couldn’t risk it, even though her stomach churned with fear. Not until Dad turned off the lights.
Finally, at eleven-oh-five, the house darkened. Jennet forced herself to wait another few minutes before silently slipping out of bed. The thick carpeting made her feet noiseless as she tiptoed down the hall. There was a game she used to play - moving so slowly and silently that she wouldn’t trigger HANA’s sensors. She held her breath and hoped she hadn’t forgotten the knack. She trailed one hand along the wall, careful to avoid the table at the corner. There was no way she could explain her way out of this if she were caught.
She closed and locked the game room door behind her, wincing as the lock made a quiet metallic noise. Still feeling her way, she fumbled for the jamming field switch. It hummed to life, and she let out a breath. Her lungs felt like they were made of metal, impervious to air.
The sim chair powered on smoothly, and Jennet pulled on the helmet, the gloves. Time to go.
Feyland unfurled, and she plunged into the swirl of golden light.
She landed, as usual, in a grassy circle, then fell to her knees while sick shudders racked her. Gasping, she fought back the sensation. Tam. She couldn’t waste time vomiting in a faerie ring. She had to find Miles Cross.
As soon as she stepped over the mushrooms, a thin hand tugged at her robes. “Quickly, quickly,” a high voice said.
“Puck?” She held up her staff. The blue glow illuminated the figure of the sprite. His usual grin was gone, and he danced back and forth with impatience.
“Of course it is I. Follow!” He dashed down the path.
Jennet gathered her skirts in one hand and ran after him. It was bad, if the sprite wasn’t even giving her cryptic hints and riddles. They must be nearly out of time.
They burst out of the forest of pale trees into a midnight landscape. Shadows lay heavy on the land, and there was no moon.
“Puck - where are you?” The blackness pressed against Jennet. She swallowed the sourness of her own fear.
“Here!” The sprite grabbed her robes again and towed her forward, at a speed that made her stumble.
Up one hill, then down. Up another, pressing forward through brambles that raked at her skin. Breath rasped through her throat.
Puck was grimly silent. Only the constant pull on her robes let her know he was still there.
Up ahead, a faint light shone through the dark. She squinted and made out a single lantern hanging from a post, illuminating the pale dust of two roads crossing. A crossroads.
“Miles Cross?” she gasped.
“Hurry!” Abruptly, Puck’s grip on her eased.
She whirled, but the sprite had disappeared. With his last command ringing in her ears, Jennet sprinted forward.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Jennet ran into the pale circle of light
at the crossroads. The silence of the night was marred by her great, gasping breaths.
Nobody here yet. She had made it in time. She wrapped both hands around her staff and tried to get her breathing back under control.
She could make out a circle of standing stones in the darkness across the road. The trembling rush of her blood steadied as she looked at the stones, faintly illuminated by the lantern. Wait. She blinked and looked again. The stones themselves were softly lit, as though they were glowing with centuries of absorbed starlight.
A noise pulled her attention back to the road. Something was coming, something still distant - barely felt in the vibration of hooves, the faint drift of chiming bells.
Her heartbeat slammed through her chest. She had to hide - but where? Not the stone circle, it was too far. Her gaze darted around the shadowed edges of the light. There, a bit of leaves with a darker mass behind. A thorny bush, just big enough for her to crouch behind. She hurried behind it and knelt down. The soil was cool beneath her knees and a prickle grazed the back of one hand, but it was the best she could do.
There were lights moving along the road, some twinkling, some steady. The sound of bells was stronger. A soft wind swirled around her, carrying the scent of spice and frost. The Dark Queen’s court was approaching. And with them, Tam Linn.
Jennet pressed her lips together, hard. The words of the ballad ran through her head. She had read them over and over all day, until she felt the shape of them burned into her brain.
Oh first let pass the black horse,
And then let pass the brown,
But quickly run to the milk-white steed
And pull the rider down.
Tam would be riding the white horse. She’d grab on to him - and then the transformations she’d read about would begin. No matter what, she had to hold on.
Something tickled the back of her mind. Something essential she had forgotten. Come on, what was it. Think! She covered her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sound of the imminent faeries. Trying to block out the fear that rose in a dark, suffocating wave. The ballad said… it said…
At last they’ll turn me in your arms
Into a naked knight,
Then cloak me in your mantle green
And cover me from sight.
