Feyland: The Complete Trilogy

by Anthea Sharp

  As if the thought summoned him, he appeared next to her. His brown hair was sleep-tousled, and instead of silver armor, he wore a black t-shirt and low-slung gray sweats. Her heart jolted with happiness. Sitting with him at lunch wasn’t enough - it just made her ache inside even more.

  “Jennet.” He smiled and stepped forward, opening his arms.

  She went into his embrace like a diver too-long submerged, breaking at last into the sweet, essential air. It was almost painful, the intensity of joy flowing through her. She hugged him hard, feeling the wiry muscles, the lean strength of him.

  This was a dream - she wasn’t responsible for her actions here. She tipped her face up to his. Without hesitation, he kissed her. This was more than the simple, soft kisses they had exchanged before. Fire sparked her nerves as their mouths molded desperately together.

  She wanted to climb inside his skin and stay there with him, forever.

  “Ahem.” Someone coughed, discreetly, behind her.

  It had to be Thomas. He was always a part of this dream, too.

  Slowly, Jennet pulled back, though her lips begged to stay touching Tam’s. She stared into his clear green eyes for a long moment, then turned to face her old friend. Tam slipped his arms around her, and she leaned against him with a sigh.

  “Hello, Thomas,” Tam said, his voice vibrating her back. He didn’t sound surprised to see the bard, either.

  Thomas made them a bow, his eyes sparkling. “Greetings, Tam and Jennet. Once more you are victorious within the Realm. And I am pleased to see you have at last reached an understanding.”

  Tam looked down at her with a crooked smile. “If only the rest of the world understood, we’d be fine.”

  “Oh, they will.” Thomas’s expression sobered. “There are more battles ahead, my friends - trials that will tax you to your very limits. Trust one another, and trust those who rally to your side.”

  Jennet swallowed, her happiness fading. “You have to tell us, Thomas - how can we keep Feyland from being released?”

  He let out a deep breath. “You cannot, any more than you can hold back the water when the dam is fatally cracked.”

  “Then what can we do?” Tam’s arms tightened around her. “The mortal world’s about to be in serious trouble.”

  “The way will be revealed,” Thomas said. “When it opens, you must take the path without hesitation, even if fear rises up to choke you.”

  Frustration blazed in her chest. “That’s so not enough. Thomas, you have to help us. Tell us how - ”

  “Already I stretch the boundaries of what is allowed.” The bard gave her a sorrowful look. “Do not ask more.”

  “Can’t you at least tell us where we need to go?” Tam asked.

  His eyes weary, Thomas shook his head.

  “Aha!” a high voice cried. “He cannot - but I can.”

  “Puck!” Jennet scanned the meadow until she caught sight of the sprite leaping over the white flowers. He made a complete flip, then bowed jauntily at their feet.

  “Are you supposed to be here?” Tam asked.

  “I come and go throughout the Realms as I please,” Puck said.

  “Aye, causing mischief in your wake.” Thomas gave the sprite a half-smile.

  “Tis simply to give you more to sing about, Bard. You should be glad of it. But Bold Tamlin, you speak true - trouble is not far from your mortal world. There is only one place you may turn to for aid. A place deeper than the Realm of Faerie. A place where even I tread lightly.”

  Jennet’s throat went dry, but she had to ask. “What place is that?”

  Puck gave them a look - more serious than she had ever seen. “The Twilight Kingdom.”

  His words hung in the air, and the light dimmed as though clouds had covered the sun. Jennet was grateful for Tam’s warm, solid presence at her back.

  “How do we get there?” Tam asked.

  “As I told you,” Thomas said, “You will know the way when it opens before you.”

  “Why do you have to be so secretive?” Jennet wanted to shake him.

  “He must,” Puck said. “The allegiance he has sworn binds him. Now hurry, this place-between is fading. Kiss one another once more, ’ere the moment is over.”

  “Farewell,” Thomas said, holding up his hand. “Stay true.”

  Then he was gone, and Puck as well, the sprite’s laughter still chiming in the air. Jennet turned in Tam’s arms. His lips were warm on hers, but fading, fading…

  She was alone, on the edge of waking. A cold wind bent the meadow-grasses and the light took on a purplish hue.

  She opened her eyes in the dimness of her own bedroom.

  Everything was quiet, with the early-morning stillness that descended in the hour before dawn. The memory of Tam’s kiss kept her warm, though the dark shadow of the future was rising quickly before them.

  A future that led to a place she’d never heard of …

  The Twilight Kingdom.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS & THANKS for THE BRIGHT COURT:

  Thank you to the many people who made this book better: the encouragement and feedback of my terrific CP, Peggy, fabulous proof and beta-readers Sean (aka Captain Grammar Pants), Chassily, Marissa, Theresa McHarney, and Brynn. Extra-big hugs to my patient and supportive in-house editor, Lawson, and keen-eyed reader Ginger.

  For an absolutely gorgeous cover, huge thanks to Kim Killion at Hot Damn Designs. And for the inspiration to move forward, ongoing gratitude to all the indie and self-publishing advocates out there.

  Resources used include: Katharine M. Briggs, An encyclopedia of fairies: Hobgoblins, brownies, bogies, and other supernatural creatures: and Faeries by Froud, Larkin, and Lee

  Jennet and Tam’s adventures in the Bright Court were partially inspired by the fairy tale of Childe Rowland. Special thanks to The Baldwin Project for their fine version of the text. http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=steel&book=english&story=childe

  Thank you for reading the FEYLAND trilogy!

  If you enjoyed it, please consider helping other readers find this book:

  1. Share it ~ Lend it to a friend who you think might like it.

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  3. Stay connected ~ Sign up for Anthea’s quarterly newsletter, Sharp Tales, at http://www.tinyletter.com/AntheaSharp. Visit her website at antheasharp.com, and come friend her on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/AntheaSharp.

  BACK TO TOP OF THE BRIGHT COURT

  BACK TO TABLE OF CONTENTS

  FEYLAND: THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM – Book 3 in the Feyland Trilogy ~

  THEIR LAST CHANCE…

  Jennet Carter and Tam Linn are almost out of time. Feyland, the most immersive computer game ever designed, is about to be released into the world—along with the Realm of Faerie’s dangerous magic.

  WIN THE GAME…

  The faeries, desperate to break free from their realm, have set treacherous plans in motion. Despite magical allies of their own, Jennet and Tam have no idea what dire threats await, both in-game and out.

  OR DIE TRYING…

  Battling for their lives against the united powers of the Dark Queen and Bright King, Jennet and Tam’s quest to stop the fey takes them into the perilous Twilight Kingdom, where illusion reigns—and magic can break all the rules.

  DEDICATION:

  For all the musicians in my family – but most especially for Ginger.

  FEYLAND: THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM – PROLOGUE

  In the dimness where night gives way to dawn, two fey monarchs met in the center of an oak-encircled clearing. The starlit grass shimmered with magic, cold and bright, as the pair faced one another.

  Deep shadows stretched behind the Dark Queen. Stars tangled, icy and brilliant, in her midnight hair, and her eyes were black as an eclipse. Things better left unseen in the bleak hours of the night crept beside her on disjointed limbs. Their feral eyes gl
owed as they crouched in the clouded tatters of her gown.

  The Bright King carried midday in his wake, his hair shining with remembered sun, his golden armor aglow. The small fire of pixies hovered at his shoulders, wreathing him in a crown of light.

  The creatures of their courts watched the fateful meeting. Fantastical forms capered in and out of the trees or perched, moon-pale, wizened, and gnarled, upon the branches.

  “Greetings, brother,” the Dark Queen said, her dusky voice filling the silence like smoke.

  “Well met, sister.” The Bright King inclined his head. “Have you an answer to our troubles? Troubles which, I recall, you worsened with your obvious meddling in the mortal world.”

  The queen’s eyes narrowed, glittering. “You failed as well, despite your trickery. Despite your promises and enticements.”

  Her tone was edged with ice, and the creatures nearest her shifted away.

  “The mortals are clever,” the king said. “Much as it pains me to admit such a thing. Fair Jennet and Bold Tamlin—”

  “Speak not those names to me!” she cried. “Your pain cannot compare to mine. It is a constant coal burning beneath my breast. Yet we must lay aside our differences and work together. The entire Realm suffers, Unseelie and Seelie both.”

  At her words, the watching fey folk muttered and hissed. The bright lights trailing the king dimmed, and the cold midnight of the queen faded. A bitter wind stirred the grasses at their feet, bringing with it the scent of decay.

  Glancing over his shoulder, the king lowered his honey-rich voice. “It is dangerous for us to do so. It upsets the balance. We do not want to wake them.”

  “When have they bothered themselves with the Realm?” Frigid anger rolled off the queen. “We are dying from lack of mortal sustenance, and they pay no heed. Perhaps, when we break through into the human world, they will stir. But by then, it will be too late.”

  From the shadows, a tall, antlered figure raised his eerie head. The red-eyed hounds at his feet howled, their spectral cries wavering through the air—the Wild Hunt, always eager to be loosed.

  “Leash your hounds,” the king said, his voice tight.

  “I will not wreak havoc upon your court, if that is what you fear.” The Dark Queen laughed, the sound like ice cracking on a winter lake. “At least, not yet. So, brother, are we in accord?”

  “Little good our rivalry does us, if our entire land is imperiled.” The king frowned. “It forebodes me, but I see no other course. We shall strive together to restore our kingdoms. But mark me well—when strength returns to the Realm of Faerie, I shall spare you no mercy.”

  “Nor I you.” The Dark Queen sent him a knife-edged smile.

  The watchers in the shadows stirred again, their eyes bright and menacing. Blades and teeth shone in the silvery light and a band of redcap goblins hissed, eager to battle their long-standing enemies.

  “Be still!” the Dark Queen cried, her voice slashing the air.

  The goblins subsided, but restive tension hummed through the clearing. Brightness clawed farther above the horizon, and the dark creatures of the Unseelie Court drew back into the dimness beneath the trees.

  “A truce, until the Realm is secure,” the king said. “Together we will open the gateway to the mortal world. Now seal the bargain—in blood.”

  The queen raised an imperious hand, and one of her willowy handmaidens approached, a pewter bowl cradled between her hands. The faerie maid knelt on the soft grass between the monarchs and held the bowl up, her pale head bowed.

  From her gossamer sleeve, the Dark Queen drew out a long, black thorn, the point sharp and deadly. The king nodded and produced a shining golden needle. The monarchs extended their hands over the bowl, each one poised to prick the other’s palm to the bone.

  The wind ceased and the fey folk held their breath. Silence descended across the Realm. In the dark bogs, Phoukas rose, lifting their eerie horse-heads. Hobs huddled in their bracken hovels, and even the most frivolous of pixies dimmed.

  “By this blood, the Realm will live,” the king said.

  “By this blood, the Realm might die,” the queen countered. “Seal our fate, brother.”

  The king’s golden needle plunged into the queen’s palm. She let out a sharp cry, quickly swallowed. A trickle of blood, dark as midnight, fell into the bowl, and the faerie maiden holding it trembled.

  Quick as dusk descending, the queen stabbed the king’s hand with her black thorn. He hissed in pain as a trickle of blood, glowing like distilled sunlight, fell into the bowl.

  The instant the blood touched blood, a vortex of light swirled up, red flame and cold blue fire, heat and darkness, flooding the clearing like a visible scream. The monarch’s faces lit with eldritch color as light clashed against dark. Around them, their courtiers fell to the ground, turning their gazes away from that terrible light.

  The tall oaks bowed and swayed, bending like grass as the land carried the magic deep into itself.

  The maiden holding the bowl cried out, high and shrill. It was the sound of a hawk descending; it was the cry of its prey as cruel talons pierced to the heart. Radiance spilled from her body, then coal-black cinders as she turned to ash. The bowl tumbled to the grass, empty.

  The Realm shuddered. Stilled.

  “It is done,” the queen gasped. “Seelie and Unseelie are united.”

  The king dipped his head, his face lined with strain.

  “My court will linger no more in this place.” She glanced at the sky. “Already it grows too light. We shall meet again.”

  She lifted a pale hand and swept back into the midnight half of the Realm. Her retinue followed: banshees with hollow eyes, sharp-toothed goblins, a silent-helmed knight encased in black armor, and all the varied dark denizens of the Unseelie Court.

  The king beckoned his own court into the noontime brightness of his domain. They streamed into the light, pixies and hobs, sprites and faerie maidens, the clear notes of a harp shimmering behind them. Then the clearing was empty, only a charred circle on the grass bearing testament as dawn brightened the sky to pale gold.

  Something stirred between the oaks, and two figures stepped from the shadowy trees. The taller one seemed nearly human, though dressed in faerie raiment. A battered guitar was slung across his back, and regrets and secrets lined his face.

  His companion was a nut-brown sprite garbed in a tatter of leaves and dreaming, his hair tangled around his sharp features.

  The two exchanged somber looks, a wealth of worry in the air.

  “So, Bard Thomas,” the sprite said. “It is as we feared.”

  “Aye.” The man shook his head in a weary gesture. “The way forward is almost too difficult to contemplate.”

  A chill breeze shivered the leaves of the trees, and he pulled his cape more tightly about himself.

  The sprite floated up until he could set one long-fingered hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Hold fast,” he said in a high, piping voice. “The balance will be restored. It must be.”

  Thomas nodded, his eyes deep with sorrow. “Yes. But at what cost?”

  CHAPTER ONE - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM

  Tam Linn stepped up to the reception desk in the echoing VirtuMax lobby, his heart threatening to hammer right through his ribcage.

  He glanced down at his jeans—the good ones, with the ripped hem barely visible and no holes in the knees. Even though he’d taken a shower and put on his cleanest clothes, he felt grimy in the pristine white lobby, as if being from the Exe left a stain around him—an oily cloud that followed wherever he went.

  “Hi,” he said to the woman at the desk. She looked almost plastic in her perfection. “I’m here for the beta-testing team.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes—just stared at his access badge, as though she couldn’t believe a guy like him was permitted here, in the hallowed company compound. He half-expected her to demand his badge; maybe bite on it to make sure it was real. As if he could have gotten past the ga
tes and scanners using a dummy pass. With the security around VirtuMax, that would be severely impossible.

  Finally, she wrinkled her nose and shoved a tablet and plas-pen at him. “Sign in. Full name. Purpose of visit.”

  He filled out the form, then slid the tablet back to her. Before picking it up, she shot a spray of disinfectant over it. Nice.

  “Wait over there.” She pointed her chin toward a row of white chairs on one side of the lobby, then watched him go as if she expected him to leave black streaks on everything he touched.

  A professionally dressed woman with dark hair occupied one of the chairs. Head bent to her tablet, she didn’t bother glancing up at him. Tam shoved his hands in his pockets, too nervous to sit. His gaze went past the receptionist, and he studied the angular silver logo dominating the far wall. VirtuMax. The best game company in the world—the company he’d spent years daydreaming about. He couldn’t believe he was actually here.

  Too bad it was for all the wrong reasons.

  He’d made it through the front doors, but not as an internationally celebrated gamer or top-notch developer. No, he was just a high school student from the worst part of town whose life was fraying apart. The only thing he excelled at was simming.

  And even that ability wouldn’t have gotten him on the game-testing roster, except for his connection with Jennet Carter, whose dad was a project manager for the company. Tam still couldn’t believe Mr. Carter had recommended him for the beta team. Not after warning him to stay away from Jennet.

  Jennet—who was on the beta team, too. When was she going to get here?

  He let his hair fall over his eyes and covertly studied the other woman waiting in the lobby. She didn’t look like a gamer. For one thing, she was older than most simmers, plus she was dressed way corporate. Maybe here for some kind of interview?

  Then the doors swooshed open and Jennet came through, and nothing else mattered. Her blond hair was braided back, and she was wearing a purplish sweater that made her eyes seem even bluer than usual. She saw him and walked right over, a big smile on her face.