Feyland: The Complete Trilogy

by Anthea Sharp

  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.”

  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.

  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.

  That was it; the green cloak. Oh god, she’d nearly lost before she’d even begun. She drew in a ragged breath, trying to imagine it in perfect detail. Long green cloak. With a hood.

  “A mantle green.” She whispered the words.

  It appeared, lying soft and heavy in her arms. She pulled it on, awkwardly, since she was kneeling on the ground, and tied it around her neck. Now she was ready. Barely.

  The Dark Court slowed as they reached the crossroads. From her hiding place, she scanned the ranks of creatures. The very front of the company was led by a row of figures in pale armor, lances prickling up, faces covered by their helms. Behind them cavorted redcap goblins, their faces grotesque, their teeth glinting and sharp.

  Other creatures, half-animal in form, trailed them. Was that walking clump of brown hair Fynnod? Before she could tell, a faerie with the head of a bird and feathery wings blocked her view. A delicate bevy of maidens followed, their hair like spun moonlight, silver bells edging their gossamer robes.

  And behind them… she shivered. The Black Knight riding his black charger, forbidding in his midnight armor. Then came the Dark Queen, beautiful as an eclipse, on a chestnut mare. Jennet’s mouth went dry and she shrank down behind her bush, which suddenly felt far too small to conceal her. The black horse, and the brown. Where was the white horse?

  The company halted and the queen spoke. Her voice was the edge of twilight, full of mystery and dark promise.

  “My court, long have we waited. Long have we languished while our strength waned, deprived of the essence that sustains us. But on this eve we renew the land. On this eve we reclaim our ancient birthright. On this eve we open a gateway to the mortal realm!”

  A clamor of fey and feral voices greeted her words. The queen raised one hand, and the noise subsided.

  “Honor our sacrifice,” she said, “for he is a brave knight, and true. And now, we shall pay the tiend. Onward - the stones await!”

  The faeries surged forward, and Jennet bolted to her feet. Fear sliced through her, sharp and unstoppable. Where was Tam?

  The Black Knight thundered past. Next came the queen, her gaze fixed on the stones ahead, her face lit with unearthly beauty. Finally, finally, a white horse. The rider was garbed in gold and crimson glory, an ornate mask covering his face. It had to be Tam. Had to be. Jennet flung herself forward.

  The horse was tall, but she was desperate. She managed to get her arms around Tam’s waist, even though he didn’t stop. Her shoulders burned as she was dragged forward. There was no traction, no way to pull him down.

  “Tam!” she yelled. “Get off the horse! Tam, do you hear me?”

  He didn’t even glance at her - it was like she didn’t exist. Jennet swallowed the desperate sob building in her throat. She couldn’t hold on much longer.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure overtaking them. Some fey creature, ready to strike her down. Fingers numb, she ignored it and kept holding onto Tam. The figure drew up on the other side of the white horse.

  “Get ready,” a voice called, and Jennet jerked her gaze up to see an achingly familiar face. Thomas. Here to help.

  She nodded, and Thomas set his hands to Tam’s unresponsive shoulder. He gave a shove. Tam teetered a moment in the saddle then, finally, fell. Jennet’s arms were locked around his waist as together they tumbled backward to land in a bone-jarring tangle on the ground. Her side burned and she couldn’t grab a breath. The mask slid off to reveal Tam’s face, his eyes wide and confused.

  “Tam!” Air whooshed into her lungs. She leaned forward and kissed him, a quick, relieved press of her lips to his. They would get through this. “Can you stand up?”

  It would be easier to hold on to him that way. Her right arm was twisted uncomfortably underneath his waist, but she didn’t want to tug it free. Hold on - no matter what. Hold on.

  “Jennet?” Tam shook his head, sending a swatch of brown hair across one eye. He sat up, and she shifted her grip, both hands tight around his arm. “I—”

  A blast of thunder shook the sky, the sound so deep Jennet felt more than heard it. Her whole body vibrated, and she nearly lost her grasp on Tam again. The air brightened, as though the sun had leaped into the sky. She looked up, then wished she hadn’t. The night sky was now a tattered cloth, the stars blazing white-hot behind the scrim of dark, shedding an eerie, furious glow.

  Around them, the fey-folk were crying out and covering their heads. The orderly procession was now a panicked jumble, the sound of bells clashing and discordant.

  “HALT!” The queen’s command filled the air, like an echo of thunder.

  Silence followed - an awful, frozen silence. The only movement was the Dark Queen, her face filled with a terrifying wrath as she rode to where Jennet knelt beside Tam.

  “Brave knight,” she said, turning the force of her midnight beauty on Tam. “Rise, and mount again. The cir
cle lies but nine paces on, and you shall be safe therein.”

  Jennet bit her lip, hard. If Tam wanted to pull free, she didn’t know if she could fight him. “Tam,” she breathed.

  He gave no sign that he’d heard her.

  The queen’s face softened and she held out one delicate hand. “Come.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m safe right here.”

  Jennet swayed with relief. Then she saw the queen’s expression and stiffened again. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Of course not. There were all the transformations to get through. She tightened her hands around Tam’s arm.

  “No?” The queen’s voice was a killing frost. “If you will not take leave of this mortal, then I shall make her take leave of you.” She raised an arm and cast her voice over the eldritch crowd. “The final price then they will pay, ‘ere I cry Tamlin’s away!”

  Whatever that meant. Jennet looked at Tam, about to urge him to get up again, but the words stilled in her throat. He was changing, his features flattening out grotesquely, his limbs disappearing… she couldn’t hold his arm anymore because he had no arm.

  The icy laughter of the Dark Queen cut through her panic. Jennet reached forward and grabbed what Tam was turning into. Scales slid under her palms, but she hugged him tight against her. The smell of something dry and ancient assaulted her nose. The body pressed against hers was one long rope of writhing muscle.

  Snake! the primitive part of her brain shrieked, but she made herself hold on. Even when a sibilant hiss made her look up, right into a fanged mouth. Even when she felt the coiled tension that signaled it was about to strike.

  A single whimper crawled out of her throat.

  Hold on. No matter what.

  The scales under her hand roughened, turned to fur. Another smell, rank and greasy, assaulted her senses. Tam had regained limbs, but they ended in wicked-looking yellow claws. Instead of fangs, she was confronted with a bear’s mouth, full of rending teeth.