by Anthea Sharp
After a heart-clenching second, he heard the click of the interior lock releasing. He gave a gentle push, and the door swung open into the soft, warm dark. Tam slipped inside and pressed the door closed behind him, moving as noiselessly as possible. As long as HANA didn’t open her big mouth, he should be ok. He didn’t think she would, though - she’d never addressed him directly.
But would she wake up Jennet’s dad or the housekeeper? Or was she on her downtime - if house networks even had such a thing. Either way, he had to keep going. He clicked on the flashlight, the dim yellow beam making the house seem like a foreign country he’d never set foot in before. Quietly, he crept up the staircase, then padded along the corridor.
The door to Jennet’s bathroom was slightly ajar, and he could see the golden box reflected in the mirror. It was glowing. Swallowing hard, he hurried past.
He took a right at the main hall, then down to the end - the game room. He kept himself from sprinting the final few feet. Slow and easy.
Tam silently closed the door behind him and locked it. The flashlight beam glinted off the Full-D systems, which looked menacing without the lights on. The jammer box hummed nearby. He flipped the switch, sending the blocking signals into the air. There - that would help with HANA, too. Letting out a deep breath, he slid into the chair and geared up.
One knight in shining armor, on the way. He just hoped he was in time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - THE BRIGHT COURT
The golden light of Feyland swirled around him, and Tam held the image of the Bright Court in his mind. Take me there, he thought fiercely. The usual queasiness faded, and he felt solid ground under his feet. Had he done it? He opened his eyes.
Relief washed through him. He was standing in the middle of the faerie ring that led to the Bright Court. He never thought he’d be so happy to see those poisonous white-flecked mushrooms again. With one hand resting on his sword, he jumped over the ring and hurried down the path.
No twiggy guards blocking his way this time, no bright pixies flashing through the trees - which was just fine by him. As soon as the forest thinned out, he started jogging, pushing his pace. It was day here - it was probably always daytime, just as the Dark Court was in perpetual midnight.
Before long, he reached the fence line that marked the first field. He climbed quickly over the stile, then stopped in surprise. The herd of flame-eyed horses stood before him, waiting. With a whinny, the leader tossed his head and bent, indicating that Tam should mount.
“Nice,” Tam said, swinging up and taking a firm grip on the rough, silver mane. “This is going to help a lot - I appreciate it.”
The horse’s muscles bunched as he leapt into movement. They were going so fast, the grasses and flowers blurred past like an old-fashioned painting. When they reached the silver-latched gate, the steed didn’t hesitate. Tam had only a second to brace himself when it was clear they weren’t going to stop. Four hooves left the earth as the horse jumped up and over the gate. For a moment, Tam swore they were flying.
The horse landed lightly, then resumed his wild pace. A moment later, they galloped past the black cows. The spritely cow-herd waved from her perch on the largest animal’s back, and the bull lifted its head briefly, coal-bright eyes glowing.
As they approached the gold-latched gate, Tam hung on tight. Sure enough, his mount leaped that gate as well, white petals scattering as they landed in the orchard. The horse pounded between the rows of trees. Tam leaned low over his mount’s neck to keep the branches from scraping him off.
Speckled chickens scattered, squawking, as Tam and the silver horse tore through. The hen-wife shook her fist, and the horse neighed, the sound suspiciously like laughter. Then they were past, and a round green hill rose into the sky - but the ride wasn’t over yet.
The horse leaped, ascending the first terrace, the second, the third. At the very top of the hill, the door to the Bright Court stood open. Tam tried to untangle his fingers from the horse’s mane so he could dismount, but his hands were stuck fast. Guess he wasn’t getting off until his mount wanted him to.
Indeed, the silver horse didn’t slow, but pounded through the door, straight into the warm misty corridors beneath the hill. It wasn’t until they reached the ornate golden doors leading to the heart of the king’s court that Tam’s mount slowed. The horse came to a halt and bobbed his head, and Tam found that this time he could let go. He slid off, and a moment later, the white-haired man stood before him.
“Make haste,” the horse-man said. “Thy lady lies within.”
“I don’t know how I can repay you,” Tam said.
The man smiled, his eyes flashing silver. “Restore the balance, mortal. Farewell.”
Before Tam could ask what he’d meant, the man transformed back into a horse. White flames glimmering about his feet, he pivoted and galloped away, leaving Tam to face the Bright Court - alone.
The golden doors slowly swung open, the brightness beyond making him narrow his eyes. Alright then. Time to get Jennet out of there.
The gemmed trees shimmered as he passed, the emeralds and rubies winking, bright shards of green and red. Hand to his sword, Tam walked light-footed over the velvet mosses. Not that there was any hope his coming was a secret.
Harp music drifted through the glittering forest, and he caught the flash of pixies up ahead. Almost there. His stomach flipped in fear.
This was worse than facing the Dark Queen. At least he and Jennet had fought that battle together. This time, everything was on him.
The light brightened, the radiance of the pearl illuminating the clearing. Just as before, there was the bright dais with its damn golden grass. He’d known that trading Jennet’s hair had been a mistake.
The throne was empty. He darted a quick glance around. Was this a trap? Nothing leaped out at him, and he forced himself to keep walking, despite the prickling on the back of his neck.
To either side of the throne were the silken velvet couches. And lying on one of them - Jennet.
He missed a step, then ran forward into the eerie emptiness of the Bright Court. Jennet was pale and beautiful, and looked oddly out of place in her modern clothing. Her eyes were closed, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
Tam fell to his knees beside the couch.
Please, just be asleep. He laid his hand on her cheek. Her skin was warm, and the horrible fear clawing its way through him backed down a little. She wasn’t dead.
“Jennet, wake up,” he said, stroking her hair. She didn’t move, didn’t give any sign that she’d heard him.
He shook her shoulder, called her name, tried to lift her up. None of it worked. She was in some kind of magical sleep.
Heart pounding, he glanced around the clearing. The golden tray with the food the king had offered them caught his eye. Could he dash the milk in Jennet’s face? What could he do to wake her up?
An old vid he’d seen as a kid flashed through his mind. There had been a princess, enchanted into sleep, and a prince who had fought to save her. He’d woken the sleeping princess with… ah, yeah. A kiss.
Slowly, Tam bent over her still form, and brushed his lips against hers. Come on, Jennet, wake up. She stirred, then seemed to fall back into dark dreaming.
Again he kissed her, this time pressing his mouth more firmly over hers, printing the shape of her lips on his. She murmured, and he pulled back, barely breathing. Wake up.
No - she grew still and quiet again. Hot grief tried to well through him, but he forced it down. He was going to wake her. No way the Bright King was winning this one.
Tam gathered her in his arms and, holding her hard against him, pressed his lips to hers once more. Urgent and breathless, gave her a desperate kiss. I love you, Jennet. I love you. The words he could never say, ringing through him.
Her arms came around his shoulders, her lips moved under his, and it was like a firework detonated inside him. Loud and bright and stunning, swamping his senses, shining into his soul.
I
t was hard, breaking the kiss. He wanted it to go on and on - but they had to get out of Feyland.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she gave him a smile that nearly broke his heart.
“Tam. I knew you’d come.”
“Don’t scare me like that.” He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
“What about Roy?” She turned her head, scanning the silent court.
“Lassiter? What do you mean?” Had Puck somehow alerted him, too? Had he come to try and save Jennet? The thought scraped uncomfortably.
“The king brought him here,” Jennet said. “You didn’t see Roy anywhere?”
“No - but I was only looking for you.” He reluctantly let her go.
She sat up. “Check the couch on the other side of the throne.”
He stood and scanned the court. Sure enough, another body lay on the second couch, partially obscured by silken covers. He walked over and flipped the golden silk back. Great, it was Roy Lassiter.
Knowing it wouldn’t work, he grabbed Lassiter’s shoulder and shook him, hard. The guy didn’t move.
“I found him,” Tam called. “Sound asleep - just like you were when I first got here. He’s not waking up, either.”
No way was he kissing the guy. Or letting Jennet do it, for that matter.
A sudden gust of wind blew through the court, setting the jeweled trees clinking. The faint sound of chimes echoed within the gemmed forest, then a low rumble, like thunder. Tam hurried to Jennet’s side. She gave him a quick, scared glance, and he pulled his sword from its sheath. His shield appeared, strapped to his left arm. Ready for combat.
“Mortal!” The word reverberated through the air.
The Bright King strode into the clearing. His faerie handmaidens trailed behind him, and the cold fire of the pixies darted overhead. Instead of his robes, he was clad in golden armor and wearing a high, twisting helm. He held an enormous sword, made of silver so bright it made Tam’s eyes water. He swallowed and gripped his weapon more tightly. This was it - the end-game fight.
“My wrath is upon thee,” the king cried, swinging his blade in a furious attack.
Tam lifted his sword, just in time. Metal clanged on metal, with a shock he felt to the soles of his feet. With a quick twist, he disengaged and danced to the side, moving away from where Jennet stood.
The king’s eyes glowed, nearly as bright as the sun. He rushed forward again, pressing Tam back to the edge of the clearing. If Tam didn’t get on his game right now, this was going to be a very short fight.
The fey-folk of the Bright Court ringed the clearing - sprites and dryads, the twiggy-fingered guards, and gnomish figures. Tam took them in with a quick glance, but didn’t see the one he’d hoped for. If Puck were here, he probably couldn’t do anything to help, anyway. This was Tam’s battle. Come on, concentrate.
Something shiny whizzed toward the king, bouncing with a clatter off his golden armor. Another missile winged the edge of his helmet, and the king spun, sword held high. Sick with fear, Tam watched as Jennet ducked behind the throne. She’d found the serving tray and was flinging the contents at the king.
The goblet was next. White liquid flew in an arc, spattering the ground. This was his chance. Tam darted forward. He slammed his shield against his opponent’s sword arm, then thrust at the king’s chest. The king staggered, and a small, fierce flame lit within Tam. Yes - he could do this.
A spoon whirled through the air to ping against the king’s shoulder. It was a small distraction, but enough to give Tam another opening. He beat again at his opponent, connecting with a solid thwack.
The king let out an angry shout and swung at Tam, his sword singing. Tam dodged back, but not fast enough. The blow hit the side of his shield and sent him spinning around from the force of it. Dammit!
Now it was the king’s turn to press the attack. Breath rasping in his throat, Tam moved backwards around the clearing. It was nearly impossible to get a swing in at his opponent, not while most of his energy was spent fending off the king’s heavy blows.
Movement glinted in the corner of his eye. Jennet, her long hair flying, leapt from the dais, the golden platter held high.
No! She was too vulnerable as her human self, not an avatar. She could die in here!
Tam grabbed his sword in both hands and, uncaring that it left him wide open to the king’s attack, lifted his blade high overhead. The Bright King smiled, sharp as metal, and pulled his own weapon back, readying the killing blow.
Clang! The golden tray slammed across the back of the king’s helm. His eyes widened and his sword dipped. Tam felt a sudden, quick pain in his thigh. Ignore it - strike now! Clenching his jaw, he aimed for the king’s neck and brought his sword down with all his strength.
Time froze. For a moment, Tam was utterly certain that he was about to be impaled on the king’s blade. Game over.
Then his sword connected with a meaty thunk. The Bright King let out a cry and fell to his knees, the impact shaking the gemmed trees. The watching fey-folk gasped, then stilled. A shocked silence spread out from the clearing, like ripples in a perfect lake.
Jennet was poised behind the king, holding the now-dented tray. Blood trickled from a cut on her finger, but otherwise she looked unharmed. Tam glanced down, half-expecting to see his armor peeled back like a can opener, but other than a jagged slice on his thigh, he was whole.
“Mortals,” the king said, his voice deep and powerful, “you have gained an unexpected victory. I concede the battle.”
Relief shivered through Tam. They had won. He could scarcely believe it.
Jennet set down the tray and circled around to stand beside Tam. She grabbed his free hand and held on, tight.
“Your majesty,” she said, “do you agree to release all the mortals currently held in your court - including him?” She nodded to the couch where Lassiter still lay in an enchanted sleep.
The Bright King rose gracefully to his feet. A thin line of crimson shone against the side of his neck, ending in a drop of blood bright as a ruby.
“Very well,” the king said. “I will free your companion.”
“And send the three of us safely back to the mortal world,” Tam added. It never hurt to be too specific when dealing with the faeries.
The king nodded, then waved to his chief handmaiden. “Peaseblossom, fetch the elixir of undoing.”
She bowed, graceful as a plume of grass bent by the wind, then went to the dais. A chest appeared beside the throne, ornately bedecked with gems. The faerie maid lifted the lid, and more brightness spilled into the clearing, as though a bit of the sun were kept inside. She drew out a vial of thick red liquid and carried it back to the king.
The cut in Tam’s thigh burned - but they had to finish this. He risked a quick glance at his leg. Despite the dark slice in his armor, there was no blood. Hard to tell if the injury was bad or not. He’d find out as soon as he left game.
The Bright King strode to the couch where Lassiter lay. He unstoppered the vial and tipped it. Three drops fell onto Lassiter’s face, and he opened his eyes.
“What? Hey!” He jumped up, then wobbled on his feet. “Jen, you ok?” His gaze went to Tam. “You too, Exie? What is this, some kind of tweaked party?”
“Enough,” the king said, his tone cold. “I shall send you three back to the mortal realm. Henceforth, all dealings between us are ended. The way to the Bright Court will be closed to you.”
“But… wait a sec,” Lassiter said, his voice desperate.
“Shut up, Roy.” Jennet went over to him and, taking his arm, dragged him back to where Tam stood. “You’re lucky to be getting out alive.”
“Heed Fair Jennet,” the king said, with a disdainful look at Lassiter.
“Your majesty,” she said. “Ever will I remember your court. And you.”
Jennet put one foot behind her and curtsied. Despite her pj’s and tangled hair, she looked like a princess from a long-ago tale.
The Bright King must
have thought so, too. There was a flash of something like regret in his eyes.
“Farewell, mortals.” The words were for all of them, but his gaze never left Jennet. “Perhaps we will meet again - in vision or dream.”
Lassiter opened his mouth, and Tam jabbed him in the ribs. The sooner they were out of the Bright Court, the better.
The king lifted his hand and traced a pattern through the air. Flame followed the movement, inscribing bright runes that burned against Tam’s vision. He closed his eyes, and felt Jennet take his hand and hold on, hard.
Then the world tipped and so did his stomach. The pain in his thigh flared, mingling with the sick feeling of exiting the game. They were leaving the Bright Court of Feyland.
He hoped - forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - THE BRIGHT COURT
Tam stumbled out of the sim chair. At least he could bear weight on his leg - the injury wasn’t that severe, though pain jabbed through him. He took a second to power down the Full-D and turn off the jamming switch. No point in advertising he’d been there.
He thumbed his flashlight on and went to the wall. There was a cupboard with med supplies somewhere near the corner - he needed to at least slap a bandage on before he left. Blank wall met his questing fingertips. Maybe the cupboard was a little more to the right.
The corner of the end-table emerged from the dark, banging him right below the knee. Pain zinged through him. He swallowed back a yell and tried to catch himself, but it was too late. With a sick sense of inevitability, he crashed forward, knocking over the lamp and piles of books on the table.
It wasn’t a loud collision - but the lights suddenly flared to full brightness. A second later, a screeching alarm split the air. He jumped, his heartbeat spiking hard.
