Feyland: The Complete Trilogy

by Anthea Sharp

  Roy huffed out a breath. “Fine.”

  Mr. Chon set his hand on the back of the first sim chair. “You’re at this end, Roy.” He continued down the line. “Coranne, you’re next, then Miss Jaxley. Mr. Linn, Miss Carter, Mr. Carter, and Mr. Fanalua here, at the other end. Please take your places and sign in on the provided tablets.”

  Roy shot Tam a venomous glare—clearly he wanted to be the one sitting next to Spark Jaxley. Not that it mattered. Once they were in-game, they’d all be in the same space. Or would they? Jennet already knew there were two pathways in Feyland, one leading to the Dark Court, one to the Bright. Both were full of danger.

  And what about the mysterious other path? The one she and Tam had been told would open before them when they needed to find it? She’d caught a glimpse of it, once, an eerily luminous circle of thin-stalked purple mushrooms.

  Throat dry, she settled in her chair, glad to have Tam and her dad flanking her. Maybe it didn’t matter who she was next to, but she found it comforting. She picked up her tablet and signed in. As she pulled on the sim gloves, Mr. Chon continued with his briefing.

  “I won’t be accompanying you in-game. Your helmets are fed into a flat-screen array, which I’ll be monitoring with my developers. Coranne Smith will be acting as company liaison inside Feyland. If you have an issue, let her know. She’s been entrusted with the game master codes and overrides. Please take careful note of any problems you encounter, and fully log your report onto your tablet at the break.”

  “Do we have to all play together?” Roy asked. “I mean, won’t you get more data if there are a couple different groups exploring the game?”

  “Eventually,” Mr. Chon replied. “For now, you’re going in as a group. Your interfaces have been loaded with a few pre-selected character classes, so that we can get a feel for the playability and skills as they interact.”

  “You mean we won’t be able to choose which class we play?” Tam asked.

  “You will—in a limited sense. However, Mr. Linn, your gaming preferences have been taken into account. You’ll be satisfied with the options provided.”

  Which wasn’t much of an answer, except VirtuMax knew what character types he’d chosen in the past. The company knew where all their personal preferences lay, even if, like Spark and her Dad and Zeg, they’d never set foot in Feyland.

  “Lame,” Roy mumbled.

  She couldn’t tell if it were directed at Tam, or at VirtuMax for limiting their choices. Still, it was the company’s test. They could run it how they wanted. Nothing changed the fact that she and Tam had a nearly impossible task ahead, regardless of what characters they were playing.

  “Gear up,” Mr. Chon said. “The point of this test is to see how players navigate the game, so I’m not going to give you any more information. Again, please pay attention to any difficulties you encounter. Good luck.”

  Jennet glanced at Tam. They were going to need all the luck they could find. He gave her a half-smile.

  “See you in there,” he said, then pulled on the gaming helmet.

  She took a deep breath and did the same.

  The visor screen was dark, except for white letters blinking in the lower right corner.

  Feyland: A VirtuMax Production

  Beta 1.1.004

  Faint music began playing, mysterious and chiming. Light slowly etched across her vision, a delicate tracery like webs or tree branches.

  WELCOME TO FEYLAND

  The words unfurled on the screen. The letters glowed a rich gold that deepened to crimson, then faded to grey, as though they had burned down to ash. The music twisted, and the dim letters suddenly whirled up into a flurry of dark-edged leaves.

  The last time she had played, Jennet had glimpsed eyes watching from the shadows—but not this time. Still, tension pulled at her shoulders. Who knew what was watching, waiting for them inside the game.

  The screen cleared to show the familiar character-creator interface, but instead of the usual dozen types of characters and classes, Jennet had a choice of three.

  Spellweaver had always been her top pick—there was something appealing about standing back from the fight and throwing blasts of magefire at her opponents. Magic was more fun than hacking at stuff with a sword, though she had no doubt Tam would end up with one of the heavy-armor melee classes.

  She clicked on the next character, a fox-faced Kitsune holding a bow and dagger. Another magic user, though it was a tricky kind of magic, relying on illusion and elemental forces. The last time she’d played a Kitsune had been with Roy Lassiter. The memory left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

  Her third option was a Healer. She rolled her eyes. Why did the game designers always think girls wanted to play that role?

  All right, Spellweaver it was.

  Now to choose how her character looked. In the past, Feyland had always made the in-game avatar similar to the person playing. If she chose dark hair, the game turned it blond. It was a player’s first indication that something was freaky and Feyland had a mind of its own.

  She deliberately selected short black hair, green eyes, and a small mouth—none of which she possessed in real life. There, that should give her something to report on when the game changed it. She gave the Spellweaver a different name, too. Xandra. No way that could be mistaken for Jennet.

  “Finish selecting your characters.” Mr. Chon’s voice sounded through the helmet speakers. “Then enter game.”

  Okay, she was ready. Well, as ready as she’d ever be.

  Jennet pressed her lips together, and sent her character into Feyland.

  CHAPTER THREE - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM

  Golden light flashed through Jennet’s senses… but without the disorienting lurch she usually felt when going into Feyland. When the light cleared, she found her character standing in the center of a grassy glade. She shot a quick glance at the faerie ring of mushrooms surrounding her, trying to determine where she was in the game.

  From prior experience, she knew that moon-pale mushrooms led to the Dark Court, and white-speckled red ones began a journey to the Bright Court. And that one time—a shiver scraped the back of her neck—she had seen those strange purple mushrooms, their stalks luminous and eerie.

  This ring mixed the pale and the red mushrooms, with none of the weird purplish ones. She let out a breath. Did that mean that they weren’t going to go to either of the courts?

  Tall trees surrounded the clearing, their leaves shimmering silver in the breeze. But unlike her other times in-game, she couldn’t feel the wind on her face. She sniffed, barely detecting a faint herbal scent in the air.

  Feyland was an incredibly immersive world. For too long, she’d thought the FullD system was responsible, that VirtuMax had made incredible tech breakthroughs.

  And they had—but the magic of the Realm of Faerie had intensified the experience far beyond the programmer’s dreams. Yet this version of Feyland was strangely lacking. Had the company truly managed to partition the game off from the Realm, without even knowing about it?

  Other figures were materializing in the clearing as the rest of the beta team arrived in-game.

  Tam was a Knight—no surprise there—wearing gleaming silver armor with a sword at his side. Next to him, Spark Jaxley glanced around the clearing with one eyebrow up. Pointed ears pricked out from her magenta hair, and she had a bow strapped to her back. Looked like she’d chosen the Kitsune class to play. Somehow, it fit her. She’d managed to match her hair color exactly, although her features were slimmer and more feral.

  Roy arrived next, in his usual character of choice—Mercenary. He swaggered over to Spark, his gold armor and arm-bands shining.

  “What do you think?” he asked, his voice crystal-clear through the speakers.

  The celebrity tilted her head. “I’ll let you know when I have an opinion.”

  “Oh.” Roy’s smirk faded.

  Clearly he’d wanted Spark to say something about how great his avatar looked. And he did look go
od—all muscled and sporting a huge, two-handed sword—though not as good as Tam. Jennet shared a tiny smile with her knight.

  A large figure in a hooded grey robe appeared next to Tam.

  “Zeg?” Tam asked.

  “Yep.”

  The character pushed back his hood and smiled, brown eyes twinkling above a frizzy beard that covered most of his face.

  “I didn’t know there were beards in the character creation interface,” Jennet said.

  “There are, if you know where to look.”

  “You rolled a Priest?” Tam asked.

  “I figured a group this size, somebody needed to play heals.”

  Zeg laced his fingers across his stomach, looking natural in the robes. A blunt mace dangled from his belt, but his character wouldn’t be doing much fighting. Jennet made a note to keep an eye on him. A good team looked out for one another, and especially didn’t let their healer get into trouble.

  “Who are we missing?” Spark asked.

  “My dad,” Jennet said.

  Of course. He was the noob in the bunch, the one with practically no gaming experience. This was going to get embarrassing real quick.

  “Great.” Roy folded his arms. “Team Carter for the win.”

  “Shut it,” Tam said. “Not everyone has wasted the hours you have in this game.”

  “You know, I think we ought to test out the duel capabilities here,” Roy said. He pulled his sword off his back. The edge glinted, sharp and dangerous. “It’s a new feature—one that will help you remember your place, Exie.”

  Jennet drew in a breath. Would injuries carry over, even in the beta testing? She didn’t want to find out quite this soon.

  “Boys.” Zeg held up his hands. “Save it for later. I’m sure Mr. Carter will be here any moment.”

  As if waiting for his cue, her dad’s avatar materialized in the center of the clearing. He was bald, wearing bright saffron robes, and carrying a quarterstaff.

  “A Martial Monk?” She couldn’t help the way her voice shot up at the end of the word.

  Oh, this was just great. Not only was her dad a complete beginner, he’d chosen one of the flashiest classes to try and play.

  Dad grinned at her and held out his hand. A small gray rock sat on his palm.

  “Snatch the pebble from my hand,” he said.

  Before she could say anything, Roy swooped in and grabbed the pebble. He held it up between his index finger and thumb, then shook his head.

  “Gotta work on those reflexes,” he said.

  Quick as a flash, Zeg was standing there, holding the pebble. Roy looked down at his empty fingers and made a face.

  “As do you, young Padwan,” Zeg said.

  Jennet smothered a laugh. It was good to have Zeg along.

  “Coranne?” her dad said, turning in a circle. “I thought I was last one in. You here?”

  Suddenly, Coranne Smith appeared at the edge of the circle. Her character wore all black, with a black headband holding back her dark hair. A wicked-looking dagger hung at her side, along with a spiked morning star. She’d chosen a Rogue as her character—and she had somehow arrived in-game and gone invisible without any of them noticing.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice dry. “Are we finally ready to begin?”

  “Come on,” Roy said, gesturing to the mossy path that led away from the faerie ring. “First quest-giver is this way.”

  “What happens if we go into the woods?” Jennet’s dad asked.

  He turned and took a few steps into the forest, his robes brilliant orange against the green and silver foliage. Then, abruptly, he disappeared.

  “Dad!” Jennet cried.

  “Hey, hey, it’s all right.” He reappeared in the center of the ring. “Guess we can’t go that way.”

  Ms. Smith nodded. “There are certain parameters built in. Even though we can see the woods, we can’t go there. Not every landscape is fully accessible.”

  Jennet thought back to her and Tam’s earlier adventures. They’d certainly gone off the path more than once—but they’d been in the Realm of Faerie then. This was the game.

  But would it stay the game?

  The party of seven started down the path, Roy in the lead. Tam hung back, taking up the rear, which didn’t surprise her. The woods rang with the sound of birdsong but Jennet didn’t see any birds. She glanced up into the riffling leaves overhead. Nothing moved there, no bright feathers, no silver shimmer of pixies.

  It didn’t take long to reach the end of the grove and emerge from the trees. Set at the edge of a flower-spangled meadow sat a classic thatched cottage. Whitewashed walls gleamed, and red geraniums spilled from the flowerboxes edging the diamond-paned windows.

  An odd creature stood on the front step. It had brilliant lime-green hair that stuck straight up, a knobby nose, huge feet, and big ears that fanned out on either side of its head. It watched them approach with wide, friendly eyes.

  “So,” Spark said, “how do we know which Non-Player-Characters are interactive?”

  “Talk to them,” Jennet’s dad said. “If you get no response, they’re just for color, not actual characters who can advance the game.”

  “That could get annoying,” the magenta-haired gamer said. “Isn’t there some way the designers can flag the active NPCs? I don’t like wasting time in-game.”

  “Hm.” Jennet’s dad nodded. “Maybe we could give them a special tabard or something, so they’re recognizable. Don’t forget to write that suggestion down during the response period.”

  “Everyone ready?” Roy asked.

  He stepped up to the creature, clearly about to activate the first quest.

  “One moment, Roy,” Ms. Smith said. “I think it would be more useful to let someone with no experience of the game take the lead here.”

  “Yeah,” Tam said, so quietly Jennet almost didn’t catch the words. “That’s sort of the point of beta testing.”

  She caught his eye. Of course Roy would try to run things. She was glad Ms. Smith was along to help slap him down.

  “Fine.” Roy folded his arms. His mouth flattened into a petulant expression.

  Jennet glanced over the party. Even though her dad was the total noob here, he at least had some knowledge of the game mechanics. Coranne Smith, too. That left Spark and Zeg as the outsiders.

  “Miss Jaxley?” Zeg held his hand out, palm up. “Care to do the honors?”

  She shook back her magenta hair. “Call me Spark, everybody. Last names seem so formal, and we’re going to be spending a lot of time in here together.”

  Roy perked up at that, and Jennet could almost see the thoughts turning behind his eyes. Yeah, right. As if he and Spark Jaxley would ever hook up. Jennet suspected the gamer-girl was smarter than that. She’d probably seen more than her share of shallow, opportunistic guys.

  “Greetings,” Spark said to the little creature. “We are a band of travelers newly come to this land. Have you any advice for us?”

  The girl had the lingo down, that was for sure.

  “Hello,” the creature said. “Welcome to Feyland, where many thrilling adventures await. I can assist you, but only if you gather me twenty-four Rondel Blossoms from yonder meadow. Do you agree to my task?”

  “Yes,” Spark said.

  Ding. A chime filled the air, and Zeg looked up.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “The game has indicated that we accepted the quest,” Coranne Smith said.

  “Flower picking.” Roy gave a snort. “Weak.”

  “Maybe,” Zeg said. “Still, you don’t want to underestimate even the simplest actions. Who knows what picking flowers could lead to?”

  “Come on,” Jennet said, leading the way into the meadow.

  The grass grew knee high, scattered with purple, bell-shaped flowers. It was strange to see the wind moving the grasses, but not feel it. She’d gotten used to Feyland’s uncannily real atmosphere. Without the magic of the Realm, the game seemed flat. Did Tam think
so, too? She’d have to ask him, once they got out.

  “The flowers are glowing,” Spark said.

  Jennet’s dad opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Coranne Smith spoke.

  “If something glows, it’s an indication that you can interact with it in the game environment.”

  “Glad she’s not my teacher,” Tam said into Jennet’s ear. “She’d put me to sleep during every lecture.”

  Her dad stood in front of one of the purple blooms, frowning. “How do I pick it?”

  “With your hands?” Roy said.

  Jennet’s dad waved his hands, passing them right through the flower. Roy rolled his eyes and reached for the bloom. And missed. Tried again.

  “It’s obviously bugged,” he said, frowning.

  The other members of the party were trying to pick the flowers, with no luck. Zeg was making a game of it, as if by sneaking up on the flower, it wouldn’t notice him and would let him pick it. Roy pulled out his two-handed sword and started swinging it in broad, flashing arcs, trying to behead the blooms.

  Tam and Jennet watched from a safe distance. Beyond the meadow, a dark forest rose, evergreens spiking up into the sky. Clouds began to gather in the distance.

  “You try,” Tam said.

  She reached for a nearby bloom, but didn’t have any more luck than the rest of them.

  “Definitely broken,” she said.

  “One moment.” Coranne Smith held up one black-gloved hand. “I’m going to exit game and get this solved.”

  An instant later, her character disappeared.

  Roy strode over to where Tam and Jennet stood. “Ready to duel, Exie?”

  “Is Player-Versus-Player combat even enabled in here?” Jennet asked. Roy had said so, but she didn’t believe everything that came out of his mouth.

  “It would be good to find out.” Tam gave her a serious look.

  Jennet rubbed her palm. He wasn’t talking about the ability to fight other players. He wanted to know if injuries would carry over into the real world—a sure sign that the magic of the Realm was in effect. And a compelling bit of evidence to show VirtuMax that their game had severe issues.