by Anthea Sharp
CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE BRIGHT COURT
Tam slung his battered pack to the ground, leaned one shoulder against the wall, and tried not to look like he was waiting for Jennet. Still, he knew it the moment she walked out of the school.
She glanced up and saw him. For a second, she hesitated. His breath tightened, then eased when she came over to join him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
She looked like she’d been crying. Not obviously, but there was a puffiness around her eyes, and her lashes were stuck together with the memory of tears.
He jammed his hands into his pockets, feeling toxic. Here was Jennet, who had so much going for her, and all he could do was drag her down.
She stared at the ground, and there didn’t seem to be anything to say. He looked at her, tongue glued to the top of his mouth. A couple more students came through the doors.
“Look,” he said, grateful for the distraction, “there goes Lassiter with his new girlfriend.” They had their arms around each other, and Keeli was staring up into Lassiter’s face.
“Guess that means he won’t be inviting me over,” Jennet said.
“Good.” The word was out before he could think. “Listen, about what I said at lunch… I just wanted to make Marny feel better.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t believe what you were saying. That Viewers belong with their own kind.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Jennet.” He swiped the hair out of his eyes. “But we’re still friends, right?”
“Friends.” She said the word like it was dirt in her mouth. “Is that what you want? A pet rich-girl for a friend?”
“Of course not! You’re so much more than that. You deserve the best.”
She met his eyes, anger sparking her gaze. “Do I? Is Roy Lassiter the best, in your book? Is that really what I deserve - an egotistical, shallow guy who treats me like an idiot? You think that highly of me, huh?”
She had a point. “Well - ”
“What about a guy who stands by his word? A guy who always tries to do the right thing? Who risked his life to save me? Maybe I deserve someone like that, Tam Linn. Maybe I deserve you. Ever think of that?”
“I…” He swallowed and glanced at the ground. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“So, start thinking.” She let out a low breath. “That’s all I ask.”
Part of him wanted to turn on his heel and head for the Exe. This was too hard. He was going to let her down anyway - it might as well be now. But the part of him that had battled monsters and braved dark magic was too stubborn to let go. Jennet was worth it.
Her words knocked around inside him, chipping the edges off of things he’d always believed were true. He didn’t believe her, not quite, but he couldn’t just walk away.
“Alright.” He met her gaze, held it. “Forgive me?”
The frustration in her expression faded, the heat of anger in her eyes softening to warmth.
“Okay,” she said, after a moment. “Now grab your stuff and come on - George is waiting with the grav-car.”
“What? Where are we going?”
“My house. I want to try something. That is… if you’re free.”
His head was whirling. One minute, he and Jennet were barely speaking, the next, she’d given him a royal talking-to and was taking him home with her. That was progress, right? He bent and scooped up his backpack. At least nothing was permanently broken between them.
“Mom’s around,” he said. “For now, anyway. I don’t have to take care of the Bug after school. So, yeah. I’ll come over.”
She smiled at him, just a wisp of a smile, but it was enough to lift his mood out of the shadows. He slung his pack over his shoulder.
“Do you still have that temporary badge for me to get into The View?” he asked.
Peons from the Exe couldn’t just go waltzing into the VirtuMax compound without some kind of security access. The pass certainly had a tracker in it, in case he got unruly and went someplace he wasn’t supposed to, but at least it would let him through the gates.
She dug around in her bag, then handed him the guest badge. Tam waited until he got in the grav-car to clip it on. No matter how many times he’d ridden in the vehicle - and it had to have been nearly a dozen by now - he still couldn’t get used to how plush it was.
“Hello, Mr. Linn,” the chauffeur said. “It’s good to see you back on your feet.”
“It’s good to be here,” Tam said, giving George a half smile.
The chauffeur didn’t say much, but he didn’t miss much, either. Unlike Jennet’s house manager, Tam got the feeling George sort of liked him. Well, didn’t despise him at least, which went a long way in The View.
The quiet smoothness of the ride still took Tam by surprise. That, and the drastic way the neighborhoods cleaned up on the way to Jennet’s. By the time they whooshed under the plas-metal archway of The View, things were pristine. Clean and newly-painted, with eerily similar mansions lining the street and not a single person in sight.
Jennet had been staring out the window the whole time, which was fine with him. They couldn’t talk freely with George listening, anyway. The grav-car pulled into the circular driveway and the back doors slid open.
“Thanks,” Tam said.
The chauffeur nodded. “Glad you could come for a visit.”
“Could you take Tam home, when we’re done?” Jennet asked.
“Certainly, Miss Carter. Just inform me when you’re ready.”
Tam got out of the car. He didn’t like George taking that gleaming machine into the Exe, even the outskirts where he lived. It was too conspicuous - a nice juicy target - but every time he argued with the driver to just drop him off in regular Crestview, George refused.
“We will,” Jennet said. “Thanks.”
She grabbed her bag and led the way up the wide stone path leading to her house. The place was four stories high, with balconies that jutted out on the upper levels and dozens of windows. The fountain in the front was lit up, a sparkle and cascade of water that seemed like it belonged somewhere public, not as a lawn decoration that maybe five people ever saw.
Jennet held her wrist up to the front door and it opened with a soft chime.
“Welcome home, Jennet,” a perfectly modulated female voice said as they stepped over the threshold. “You have brought Mr. Linn. Staff has been notified.”
“Right,” Jennet said. “We’ll be up in the game-room.”
“Confirmed.”
Tam shook his head. He couldn’t get used to the house network, either. No matter how complicated things got at home, at least his place didn’t talk to him. He liked it that way - no machines peering over his shoulder all the time.
“One moment, please. The house manager wishes to speak with you,” the computer said.
“Great.” Jennet pressed her lips together. “I wonder what Marie wants.”
Tam had a pretty good idea.
The click of heels announced the house manager’s arrival. She was dressed in a suit, and was as short as Tam remembered - though there was nothing small about the scowl she sent him.
“Miss Carter,” she said in her clipped accent. “As you recall, the last time you brought this person as a guest, we discussed the need for a more in-depth security clearance.”
“Ah, yes,” Jennet said.
At least this time she didn’t look nervous at the thought. Guess she trusted him enough now to believe he didn’t have a criminal past.
Marie, though, was clearly convinced that he was going to go home with his pockets full of small valuables if she didn’t fingerprint him right away. She whipped out her sleek tablet and held it out toward him.
“Place your right hand on the screen,” she said. “Hold still until the scan is complete.”
He did, trying not to notice how Marie’s gaze catalogued every fray and rip in his clothing. She
wrinkled her nose, as if she could smell the Exe on him.
The tablet beeped softly, and the house manager snatched it back and took a few quick steps away. She studied the screen, the soft light illuminating the disappointment on her face.
“Well, Mr. Linn, it looks like the system has no record of your illegal activities.”
“Marie!” Jennet set her hands on her hips. “Tam’s my guest. Don’t speak to him like that.”
The house manager looked up, her ink-thin eyebrows lifting. She stared at Tam until he felt reduced to a little black beetle, an unwanted insect on the polished floor of the Carter’s entryway. One that Marie would squish with the pointed toe of her shoe, if she could.
“Miss Carter. I cannot say I approve of you spending time in this person’s company.”
Jennet lifted her chin. “It’s not your choice. Tam’s going to be a regular guest here. I require that you treat him civilly, and see that he’s issued a permanent pass.”
She blew an impatient breath through her nose. “Very well. If you insist.”
“I do,” Jennet said. “That will be all.”
Marie shot Tam one last, sour look, then turned and stalked down the hallway. Her footsteps were sharp enough to crack stone. Tam half-expected to feel the house shake from the force of her displeasure.
“Sorry,” Jennet said. “Marie gets full of herself sometimes. It’s all good now.”
He doubted it.
Tam followed her up the stairs, the thick carpeting cushioning his footsteps as if he were walking on clouds. At the end of the hall, the wide double-doors of the game room stood open. Inside, he glimpsed the gleam of LEDs, the shine of a sim helmet - a techie’s treasure trove. Jennet’s game room was as big as his house, and almost as well equipped. Put in a fridge and micro, and you could live here, easy.
She hit the jamming switch beside the Full-D systems, activating the privacy frequency VirtuMax had installed to keep corporate spies and hackbots out.
“So,” he said. “What’s your plan?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “I was thinking… When I played with Roy, I made a different character. If I re-create her and go in-game here, that might help change things.”
“Should I switch, too?”
He slung his backpack into the corner by the door, then glanced at the sim-systems. His pulse notched up at the thought of re-entering Feyland. Even though he’d almost ended up as a sacrifice to the Dark Queen, he and Jennet had beaten her. They’d won. It was dangerous, true, but it also made him feel alive in a way nothing else did. A part of him - a big part - couldn’t wait to return to Feyland.
Jennet tilted her head and considered him. “No, don’t change - I think we still need your Knight. He’s the best heavy-armor fighter class in the game. And one of us should be on our strongest character. I’m still getting the hang of the Kitsune.”
Tam headed for one of the sim chairs. “What kind of character did Lassiter play?”
“Mercenary, of course.” She made a face. “Decent fighter, but way full of himself.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Hold on,” she said. “One of the maids will bring up a snack. We don’t want to go in-game until after she’s gone.”
“Oh, right.” He veered away from the sim equip, though he felt their pull like a magnet. “After we eat, then.”
He’d forgotten how Jennet lived. Like a princess - driven around, cooked for, her every need anticipated. It was amazing she’d ended up such a competent person, with all that pampering.
Just one more way their lives were ridiculously different.
At least when he was in-game he could forget about that for a little while - could leave his flawed life behind and be his best self. Someone worthwhile. Heroic, even.
“Miss Carter?” A timid-looking woman in a uniform hovered in the doorway, holding a tray of food.
“Thanks, Tish - set it over there.” Jennet gestured to the low table by the seating area.
The maid scurried in, put the tray down, and left. She didn’t even glance at Tam. Was it a good thing to be invisible to the staff? Or did it mean he wasn’t even worthy of their notice? He shook his head. Either way, it didn’t matter. Jennet wanted him here, and that was enough.
“Smells good,” he said.
His stomach growled at the aroma of something fresh-baked. Now that Mom was around he ate a little more regularly, but meals were still scanty. He headed for the couch.
“Guess Marie doesn’t want us to starve,” Jennet said.
Tam picked up a blueberry muffin. It was still warm, and smelled delicious.
“Are you sure she didn’t poison mine?” He was only half joking.
Jennet rolled her eyes. “And risk killing me, too? I don’t think so.”
“Maybe she’s already fed you the antidote.”
“Tam, you’re too sensitive. Marie doesn’t hate you.”
She didn’t see it - but then, he doubted Jennet had been the target of serious dislike very often in her life. Maybe when she’d first come in as a new student to Crestview, but soon enough she’d been accepted. Grudgingly, maybe, but nobody despised her - especially once they saw she wasn’t a rich-bitch entitlement diva, even if she was a Viewer.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll take my chances.”
He took a bite of still-warm muffin, trying not to groan at how good it tasted. He ate three muffins, four slices of cheese, and a bunch of grapes in the time it took Jennet to finish one muffin.
“More?” She slid the tray toward him.
“No. Let’s get in-game.” Anticipation spiked through him.
She stood and went to wash up at the small sink in one corner of the room. Tam brushed the crumbs off his hands.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for playing?” he asked, heading for the Full-D systems.
“Probably.” She pressed her lips together, then picked up the gloves. “But this is important. And if it works, well, maybe there’s no danger after all. We have to find out, Tam. You know that.”
“Yeah.”
He slid into his usual gaming chair and pulled on the gloves, taking a deep, surreptitious breath. In addition to the sheen of metal and the jewel-bright LEDs, the system even smelled good - a mix of machine and opulence that he couldn’t quite describe. Did Jennet notice it, too, or was it just one more thing she took for granted?
He pulled on the helmet, his pulse doing a happy-dance at the thought of simming again. It had been way too long - that duel with Lassiter barely counted.
“See you in there,” she said. “And keep your fingers crossed.”
“Not that easy to play with crossed fingers,” he said, trying to make her smile.
It worked. She shook her head at him, a smile at the corners of her mouth, then pulled down the visor of her helmet.
At the sim interface, he selected the F icon from the menu. His nerves tingled with excitement as the visor-screen went dark. Back in-game.
CHAPTER TWELVE - THE BRIGHT COURT
WELCOME TO FEYLAND
The letters glowed against the blackness, turned from gold to deep crimson, then faded to gray. Tam braced himself for the transition as the music swelled. A blare of brightness across his senses, a sick churning in his stomach - the indicators that he was going elsewhere. A place between, as the ghost of Thomas had once described it.
That was another good thing about going back in-game - maybe they could talk to Thomas. Surely the former designer would be able to help them out, the way he had in the past.
Tam’s vision cleared and he found himself in a glade surrounded by white-barked trees. Everything looked the same as usual, and his thrill faded. If Jennet couldn’t change the game, no way were they going to go quest. If the Dark Queen saw them again… A chill shuddered through him.
Her parting threat had been to rip out his heart.
The air beside him shimmered, and Jennet’s character appeared. He blinked. Even thoug
h he knew she was going to change characters, it was still a surprise not to see her Spellweaver.
The spell-caster had been replaced with a more feral avatar. She seemed smaller, lighter-boned - though maybe it was because she was wearing close-fitting armor instead of long, flowing robes. Delicate ears pointed through her hair, and she had a wicked-looking bow strapped to her back.
“Nice,” he said. “You look fierce.”
She nodded at him. “So do you. Doesn’t look like your armor tarnished while you were gone.”
“Knights don’t rust. So…” he glanced around at the clearing, “looks like we’re in the same old Feyland.”
Jennet turned in a slow circle. When she came back around to face him, her eyes were alight.
“Don’t be too sure,” she said. “Check out the mushrooms.”
He took a closer look at the faerie ring encircling them. Instead of the usual pale, glowy mushrooms, these were red with white spots.
“That’s not a big change,” he said, trying not to hope. “We could still be in your version of Feyland.”
“Maybe - though these are exactly like the ones in Roy’s game. What if this worked?” Her voice held suppressed excitement.
The breeze blew a strand of hair across her cheek. Without thinking, he reached to tuck it back in place. The edges of his fingers brushed her face, and his heart gave a painful lurch. Did she deserve him? Did he deserve her?
She stilled, her eyes wide.
Pulse racing, he pulled his hand back - although crazy thoughts prickled under his skin. What would happen, if he kissed her in-game? Would it count, in the real world? And how far did the sensory interface go, anyway?
She looked at him a moment longer, then let out her breath and stepped out of the circle. One hand on his sword, Tam followed. A mossy path spangled with white flowers led between the trees. The wind whispered in the leaves overhead, and he heard the chiming laughter of pixies.
Jennet glanced up at the sound. “The pixies attacked me, when I was in-game with Roy.”
