by Anthea Sharp
“We come to…” She cleared her throat. “To beg a boon of your most gracious king.”
“A boon?” The taller guard let out a cackle. “Tricksy mortals. The king will untangle your words well enough - and he does not grant wishes lightly.”
The other creature leaned forward with a creaking sound. “Be careful what you ask for, knight and lady. Everything carries a price.”
Didn’t she know it. For a second, her palms tingled with the aftermath of scorching heat, the searing memory of when she’d saved Tam from the queen.
He looked at her as though he could read her thoughts, his green eyes serious. They had both paid, in the court of the Dark Queen. What new sacrifice awaited them at the Bright Court?
The taller guard cocked his head, as if listening to something they couldn’t hear.
“Pass,” he said after a moment. “The king has granted his leave to attend the Bright Court - provided you mortals can find your way there.” He gave his cackling laugh again, then pulled his spear back, opening the path.
The second creature nodded and did the same, and Tam slid his sword back into its scabbard. Trying to ignore a shiver of worry, Jennet slung her bow across her back. She followed Tam down the path, glancing at the gnarled creatures as she went past. More like them - and stranger - would probably fill the Bright Court.
Once they left the guards behind, she glanced at Tam. “It sounds like they’re expecting us to get lost along the way.”
“Then we’ll just have to disappoint them. We’re reaching the court, no matter what.”
He sounded so determined - but there was no way of knowing what Feyland was going to throw their way. No use speculating, either, until it was upon them.
The trees thinned, the light growing stronger as they went forward, until they stood at the edge of a meadow. Purple and gold flowers scattered among the low grasses, and the sweet smell of summer tickled her nose. Overhead, the sky was a clear and flawless blue.
The path, however, was gone. Nothing marked the meadow, not even a faint track through the knee-high grass.
“Straight ahead?” Tam asked.
“Makes sense.”
They set off across the meadow. After a minute, Jennet looked over her shoulder, checking the edge of the forest to make sure they were still going in a straight line. Her breath tightened. Only grass stretched out around them, in all directions.
“Tam? I can’t see the trees anymore.”
He whirled, his hand going to his sword. “Damn. I guess they do want us to get lost. We could end up going in circles for hours.”
“We’d know.” She tried to keep her voice confident. “Look, the grass behind us is trampled.”
Not that she’d be surprised if Feyland regenerated the meadow when they weren’t looking, making the grasses spring back up and erasing all signs of their passage. But that kind of thinking would start fear hammering through her blood, and she was not going there. Not yet, anyway.
After a few more minutes of unchanging landscape, Tam paused. “If we do end up wandering around in here for too long, we can log off.”
“We should keep going. There’s no guarantee we’d get back to this level again, or even this close to the Bright Court. You know that Feyland is tricky that way.”
“Yeah,” he said, tromping forward. “Onward, it is.”
As if their conversation itself had been a turning point, the meadow began to change. The grasses on either side of them rose, until they were waist-high. Bright scarlet poppies dotted the fields, and a swallow swooped high overhead.
There was something ahead, too, cutting across the landscape. Another minute of walking brought them to it - a tall wooden fence, blocking their view of whatever lay beyond.
“Do we just climb over?” Jennet asked, studying the fence. “We could use those knotholes for hand and footholds.”
“There’s a break or something, down there.” Tam tipped his head to the left. “Let’s try that, first.”
He was right. The fence dipped, straddled by a tall, ladder-like construction.
“A stile,” she said, when they reached it. “Never thought I’d see one of those, let alone clamber over it.”
Tam began to climb. The stile seemed sturdy enough, even for a knight in armor. When he got to the top, he paused and shaded his eyes with his hand.
“What do you see?” she called up to him.
“More field. And some kind of creatures out there - horses maybe. I can’t tell if they’re dangerous or not at this distance.”
Jennet nodded. Anything in Feyland could be perilous. Or not.
Tam stepped across the top of the stile and started down the other side, and she began climbing. She’d gotten to the third rung, when a high, cheerful voice called out.
“Fair Jennet, Bold Tamlin! Well met again, brave adventurers.”
“Puck!” She’d know that voice anywhere.
She looked up to see the sprite sitting, cross-legged, atop the stile. On the other side of the fence, she could just see the top of Tam’s head.
“I have but little time in this between place,” Puck said. “Listen, and listen well. The answers you seek lie ahead. Do not be afraid to battle fiercely for them.”
“Great,” Tam said. “More flawless advice from the little guy.”
Puck stuck out his tongue. “Better prepared you are, Bold Tamlin. But do not thank me for it.”
“Right,” Tam said.
The fey-folk didn’t like to be thanked directly - she knew that much from the tales in her old book. She was glad Tam remembered, too.
“Farewell,” the sprite said, giving a jaunty wave as Jennet gained the top of the stile.
“Wait…” she said, but it was too late.
Tam’s foot touched earth on the other side, and Puck was gone, leaving only his chiming laughter behind. That faded quickly, too, and she sighed.
“At least his advice is better than nothing.”
“Maybe.” Tam reached up a steadying hand as she began to descend. “With Puck, I’m never so sure. He’s mischievous.”
“It’s part of his charm.”
She jumped down, skipping the last couple rungs, then drew in a deep breath of the grass-scented air, the ground solid under her feet. Not that virtual reality or the Realm of Faerie were particularly solid to begin with. Reluctantly, she let go of Tam’s hand.
At least they knew Puck could reach them, even within the lands of the Bright King. She took comfort in the thought, although Tam obviously didn’t.
A sharp whinny broke the warm air, followed by the pound of hooves. A moment later, a herd of silvery horses streamed into view - heading straight toward them. They weren’t at all friendly-looking. White fire flickered at their feet, and their eyes were glowing, as though lit by coals.
Jennet’s heartbeat notched up, echoing the thudding hooves. She snatched her bow off her back, then shot a quick glance over her shoulder, judging the distance to the fence. They could make it over the stile to safety, if they sprinted hard.
“Run for it?” she asked.
“No.” Tam pulled his sword in one smooth move. “Remember what Puck said? We stay - and fight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - THE BRIGHT COURT
Jennet nocked an arrow to her bow and waited, barely breathing. Were the horses going to trample them to death? Just when she was poised to turn and run, the herd pulled up short.
They were even more frightening, up close. The dark hollows of their eyes were filled with flame, and their flickering hooves looked razor-sharp. The horses stood eerily silent - no milling about, no snorting and whinnying. Then a figure emerged from the middle of the herd, a young man, clad in a silvery robe the same color as the horse’s hides. He had white hair, and eyes black as night.
She blinked. Where had he come from?
“Halt!” he called, his voice deep and resonant. “Who trespasses on the lands of the Bright King? Turn back, turn back, else a reckoning is upon thee.
”
“Reckon away,” Tam said, and raised his sword.
Clearly he’d taken Puck’s advice to heart.
“Ah,” the man breathed. A thin, sharp blade appeared in either hand. “Impetuous mortals.”
Tam rushed forward, but the white-haired man danced nimbly away. Biting her lip, Jennet lifted her bow and sighted down the arrow. Drat it. She didn’t have a clear shot. If she missed, she’d hit one of the horses, and that didn’t seem like a good idea. Maybe they’d all transform into enemies with knives. She started circling around, looking for a better angle.
Tam and his opponent clashed blades, parted, then came together again. The sun glinted brightly on his armor, shone on the robes and white hair of the other fighter, until she had to squint against the glare. They seemed evenly matched as fighters - but that wouldn’t be enough for her and Tam to win their way forward.
She finally found a position to shoot from. Now the trick would be avoiding Tam. She lifted her bow again, then lowered it with a growl of frustration. He was too close to his opponent. Her aim was decent now, but not flawless enough to take those kinds of chances.
Maybe an archer/warrior combo in-game wasn’t so great after all. She could use her Kitsune flame powers, but again, that risked injury to Tam.
Tam and the white-haired man fought on, moving almost as if they were dancing. There was a hypnotic beauty to it - the push and parry, spin and turn. Jennet shook herself, pulling her eyes away from the graceful flashing of silver blades under the sun. Time to end this.
“Tam, jump back!” she yelled, keeping her arrow trained on the white-haired guy.
Without looking at her, Tam threw himself backward. Jennet released, and with a zinging noise, her arrow flew true. It hit the enemy’s arm with a meaty thunk, and he let out a cry that sounded almost like a neigh.
Tam sprang forward again and held the edge of his blade to their enemy’s throat. Jennet wasted no time in nocking another arrow to her string.
“Do you yield?” Tam asked.
The man blew his breath out through his nose, nostrils flaring. His fingers were clenched around the shaft of the arrow stuck in his arm. A thin trickle of blood ran down toward his wrist.
“Very well,” he said, his voice tight with pain. “You and the lady have won victory - and further passage.”
Tam gave a single nod and lowered his sword.
Jennet hurried over to the man. He winced as she approached.
“Let me help you,” she said. After all, it was her arrow sticking out of him.
His black eyes considered her. “I did not expect injury. Your aid would be welcome.”
“Hold still.” She grasped the arrow, and, before she could think too hard about it, pulled straight back. The man gasped as the point came free, making blood spurt freely.
“Here.” Tam handed her a thick gauze pad he’d summoned.
“Thanks - good idea.”
She slapped the gauze over the man’s injury, and he shuddered beneath her hands as she pressed firmly against the arrow hole.
“I shall transform,” he said. “This wound will close of itself when my flesh changes shape.”
“Transform… into a horse?” she asked.
“Aye. When I do, take your place upon my back, and I shall carry you as far as I may.”
“Do you swear no harm will come to us?” Tam asked.
The man nodded. “I promise to carry your lady safely.”
“Hey,” Tam said. “What about me?”
The man’s laugh was a high whinny. “Have no fear, brave Knight. Another of my herd shall bear you, with the same promise. Now, stand away.”
Jennet stepped back, holding the bloody gauze. Before them, the man shimmered, as if the air around him was suddenly molten. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was gone - as was the cloth she’d been holding. Now a silvery steed stood before them, with white fire at its feet and glowing coals for eyes. The horse bobbed its head and, extending one foreleg, bent low.
A minute later, she and Tam were mounted and riding through the tall grasses. It was surprisingly easy to stay on the horse, and the loping canter made it feel as though she were flying. Her fingers twined in his silvery mane, and his wide back was warm and secure beneath her legs. It was like the very best of a good dream.
The rest of the herd spread out to either side, their manes and tails frothing like water. Jennet laughed, letting the wind snatch mirth from her lips. For a precious span of time, nothing else existed - only the rhythmic beat of hooves, the scarlet poppies under the sun, the bright air against her face. And Tam, riding beside her.
At last, the herd slowed. Ahead of them, she saw another fence, this one bisected with a gate. When they reached it, her mount stopped and gave a brief whinny, and Jennet slid off. The air shimmered and the horse disappeared, replaced by the white-haired man.
“I leave you here,” he said. “Your path lies beyond this gate. Farewell, mortals.”
“Fair running to you,” Jennet said, bowing. Beside her, Tam did the same, the sunlight glinting off his armor.
The man gave a nod, his dark eyes watchful as she and Tam went up to the gate. It was secured by a silver latch, and opened easily. Tam strode through, but she paused to wave one last time at the horse-man. He lifted his hand in return. Then the gate swung closed, blocking her view. She could hear the quiet thunder of hooves, racing away over the bright fields. For a heart-twisting moment, she wished she could go with them.
Instead, she let out a sigh and turned to see what new adventure awaited.
“Another field?” she said. “This is getting a little old.”
“Guess we’re seeing the full tour of Feyland.” Tam strode forward, through grasses dotted with vivid blue blossoms. “At least the flowers here are a different color.”
She paused to look at one - it had a deep blue center, with ruffled petals at the edge. Pretty, but she had no idea what it was called.
This was a noisier field than the last one. The hum of insects droned through the lazy air. It would be so nice to sit down in the grasses and feel the sun, warm on her face. Just for a minute - a short rest…
“Jennet!” Tam was kneeling beside her, shaking her shoulder. “Hey, wake up - this is no time for napping.”
She blinked up at him, feeling as though she was wrapped in mist, stumbling toward a faint light.
“What?” She rubbed her eyes, and looked around.
Oh, right. Field. Flowers. Feyland.
“Come on.” Tam held out his hand and helped pull her to her feet. “Stay close, ok?”
She nodded, a last bit of haziness still clinging to her senses. Walking seemed to help, and a few minutes later she finally felt like she was awake.
“How come you’re not tired?” she asked.
“Oh, I am.” His voice held an edge. “But that’s normal for me.”
“What, you’re an insomniac?”
He hitched up one shoulder. “Nah - but sometimes life is way too complicated to sleep.”
What kinds of things kept him awake deep into the night? She was about to ask, when they crested a slight rise. Below them was another herd of animals, with long, wickedly-pointed horns.
“Cows?” she guessed.
“And bulls,” Tam said. “I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of those horns.”
“Then it’s pretty much guaranteed we will be. Look, one’s heading over.”
The largest of the shaggy black beasts had turned and was ambling up the rise toward them. It had the same glowing, eldritch eyes as the horses.
“There’s something on its back,” she said, catching sight of a small brown figure perched just behind the bull’s head. “It’s not Puck, is it?”
“Doesn’t look like. Maybe one of his relatives.”
The big animal halted a few feet away, and the figure riding it stood, holding one horn for balance. It was a sprite of some kind - it had the same crooked grin and ramshackle clothing, the sa
me jaunty bearing as Puck. But this one seemed to be a girl, judging by the wild tangle of hair and tattered skirts.
“Greetings, bold adventurers,” she said, her voice high and clear. “What brings you to the king’s pastures?”
“We seek the Bright Court,” Tam said. “Can you tell us in which direction it lies?”
The sprite laughed. “Indeed, I cannot.”
Tam frowned, and turned to Jennet. “Any thoughts?”
She stepped forward and addressed the sprite. “You cannot tell us freely, but may we win this information from you?”
“That you may.” The creature cocked her head and regarded them with bright eyes. “What manner of contest do you choose?”
“Um…” Jennet folded her arms. “What are our options?”
“Riddle, rhyme, or rending - those three choices I lay before you.”
Riddle - no. She’d lost her fight against the Dark Queen, in part because of a riddle. Rhyme? Maybe. But Puck had said to battle fiercely. Which left…
“Rending,” Tam said, and pulled his blade.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - THE BRIGHT COURT
The sprite laughed and pointed one finger at Tam.
“Brave Knight - so be it.” She stood and vaulted off the bull’s back, leaving the animal facing him squarely.
Before him, the bull’s eyes glowed brighter. It lowered its head and swung it side-to-side, the sharp tips of its horns glinting wickedly. Tam’s throat went dry. Slowly, he circled to the left, turning the animal away from Jennet and giving himself room to fight. The bull followed, pivoting to keep those eerie eyes focused on him.
The bunching of enormous muscles was his only warning. The beast charged, an explosion of deadliness hurtling right at Tam. He threw himself into a tumbling roll, trying not to stab himself on his naked blade as sharp hooves flashed by. Jennet gasped, but he couldn’t spare her a glance.
