by Anthea Sharp
Zeg stripped off his gear and gave Jennet’s dad a grin from behind his frizzy beard. “You’re starting to get the hang of things.”
“Only because you’re keeping me alive.”
“Everyone, input your impressions of the gameplay today,” Mr. Chon said, “then you’re free to go. We have another session tomorrow afternoon. Be prompt.”
Jennet glanced at Tam, her face pale and worried. How were they going to get back into the Twilight Kingdom if they weren’t questing together?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
Jennet wished she could talk to Tam, but her dad wasn’t staying behind tonight to go over the data. She had to be content with a small wave to Tam as he and Zeg headed out through the shiny glass doors of VirtuMax headquarters.
“Jennet,” her dad said, holding the door open for her, “all right with you if we walk home?”
She nodded, though her stomach clenched. Walking the few short blocks to their house would still give him too much time to ask questions—and she could tell he was suspicious about what she and Tam had been doing in-game.
Technically, they hadn’t even been playing Feyland. Instead they’d been using magical faerie rings to travel to realms far removed from the mortal world, on a quest to stop the fey folk from taking over. Yeah, it all sounded so plausible.
Zeg’s guzzler rumbled past, the exhaust fumes hanging in the still air. Jennet lifted her hand again in farewell.
“I like Zeg,” her dad said. “Despite his tendency toward the theatrical.”
“Me too. You should meet his niece—my friend Marny.”
“Maybe we should invite them over for dinner some night.”
“Maybe.”
How awkward that would be, especially since Tam wasn’t welcome anywhere near her house. She pressed her lips together as she and her dad turned down the wide, empty sidewalk.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said—always a bad sign. “We should find a choir here, like the one you used to sing with.”
“I’m not sure Crestview has anything like that, Dad. Besides, I don’t really have time right now.”
Part of her did miss the music, and her choir director had always said she had a great voice. But ever since entering Feyland and battling the Dark Queen, Jennet hadn’t much felt like singing.
“There’s more to life than school and gaming.” Her dad gave her a concerned look. “Speaking of which, I find it strange that you and Tam are having system issues. Anything you’d like to tell me about that?”
“Meaning?” She tried to keep her voice innocent.
“Jennet. You and Tam have a history of… shall we say, poor physical reactions to the FullD systems.”
“I would call going into a coma way beyond poor, personally.”
“Maybe it’s something in your body chemistry.” He frowned. “Your neural interface is glitching with the equipment.”
“Or maybe we’re telling the truth!” She stopped and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “Dad, that’s the answer that makes the most sense.”
He studied her for a moment, his eyes tired, the lines around his mouth more pronounced.
“Faeries and magic? I know you believe—”
“What about Tam’s leg getting hurt the night you kicked him out of my life?” she demanded. “How could a faulty neural interface cause a stab wound?”
Her dad ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t get a good look at his leg that night. There were bigger things to deal with. You might remember Security bursting into the house and waving guns around? By the time I’d dealt with them, you’d bandaged Tam up. I have no way of verifying what you’re saying.”
“I’m not lying.”
Anger warred with fear in her stomach. She wanted to yell at her dad, wanted to storm home to her bedroom and slam the door. But something held her back, a shaky anxiety she’d always had at the thought of making him angry with her. She folded her arms tightly across her body and blinked away hot tears.
“Why won’t you believe me?” She hated the way her voice shook.
“I certainly believe there’s something about you and Tam that reacts strangely when you play Feyland.” Her dad cleared his throat. “Which is why I think it’s best that you stop playing altogether. I’m recommending to Mr. Chon that he remove you both from the beta team.”
“What?” She halted, cold air stabbing her lungs. Shivering, she pulled her thick wool coat tighter. “You can’t do that.”
“Of course I can. I’m your parent. It’s my job to protect you.” His voice was calm and reasonable, and Jennet wanted to scream.
“Please don’t.” The words clogged her throat. “Don’t kick us out yet. Give us one more chance.”
One last try to wake the Elder Fey. To save their world.
Her dad folded his arms, his mouth twisted in thought.
“I suppose you could stay for one more round,” he said, and relief gusted through her. “If I upset Mr. Chon’s plan for tomorrow, he won’t be pleased.”
“Switching up the teams, you mean?”
“Yes. But after that, the two of you are done. Understand?”
Her eyes were cold now, the wetness of tears quickly chilling in the winter air. “All right.”
“It’s for the best, Jennet. I’m just trying to look out for you. And Tam, too.” He set a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get home. I’ll have Marie fix you some hot chocolate.”
As if she were still a little girl, and that would make everything better.
Ducking her head, Jennet trudged up the sidewalk. If she and Tam didn’t wake the Elder Fey tomorrow, everything was lost.
Tam waved to Zeg from the top of his stairs, then carefully opened the door, not sure what kind of mess he’d be walking into. The changeling was even worse than his little brother. Maybe because Korrigan didn’t have to pretend to be a human boy, at least not in front of Tam.
Or in front of Marny, who had agreed to hang out with the creature again while Tam was beta testing. Bad enough that Korrigan was left on his own during school hours. Tam couldn’t imagine leaving the faerie unattended for the entire day—and then pretty much the whole night, while Tam slept.
When he’d gotten up that morning, after crashing hard on his mom’s bed, he’d found the living room draped in green cobwebs. Strange, fleshy-leaved plants sprouted in the corners, and a jungle-like smell permeated the air—thick and vegetal. He’d commanded the changeling to clear it all up, then dashed out the door, late for school.
No magical jungle greeted him as he pushed the door open. Instead, Marny and Korrigan sat on the couch, facing the netscreen. Brightly colored cars zipped around a track, and the scream of the virtual crowd was deafening as Marny’s vehicle sped over the finish line. Winner! flashed in bright yellow letters across the screen.
“Noo!” Korrigan cried, flinging down his controller.
“I win. Again,” Marny said, and glanced up. “Hey Tam. How’d the testing go today?”
“Good.” He sent a significant look at the changeling. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow at school. Zeg’s out there waiting for you.”
No way would either of them let Marny walk home alone through the Exe.
“I know—the sound of his car is unmistakable.” She got off the couch. “See you later, Korr. Better work on those driving skills.”
The changeling made a face. “I shall master this ridiculous mortal game yet.”
“He’s totally hooked, poor guy.” Marny shook her head, then gathered up her knapsack. “See you tomorrow.”
Tam held the door. “Watch that step,” he called after her.
One of these days, he needed to do some scavenging and replace the weak tread. But first there was the little matter of fighting off evil faeries and saving the world.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
In the beta-testing hub the next afternoon, Mr. Chon stopped everyone before they took their usual sim chairs. Jennet cur
led her fingers into her palms, the nails digging in. When she’d told Tam at school that her dad was pulling them off the team, he’d frozen for a heartbeat. Then he’d folded his arms, green eyes hard with determination. They were going to wake the Elder Fey today, no matter what.
“We’re mixing the groups up this afternoon,” Mr. Chon said. “And the seating arrangements as well. Jennet and Spark, I want you two down at the end. Gear up and enter game right away. Talk to the Elvish ambassadors at the front gates of Stronghold—you’ll be questing in Pelemor Forest today.”
“But… shouldn’t we wait for the others?” Jennet asked.
Mr. Chon shook his head. “I want a staggered entry. Groups will be starting gameplay fifteen minutes apart.”
That was going to make meeting Tam in-game a lot trickier. Jennet moved to her new chair and picked up her gloves, turning them restlessly in her hands instead of slipping them on.
“Who’s in after the girls?” Roy asked.
Mr. Chon glanced at his tablet. “Yourself and Mr. Carter will be running the Sands of Scouring quest-lines.”
“Great.” Roy rolled his eyes. “Babysitting duty again.”
Ignoring him, Mr. Chon gestured to Tam, Zeg, and Coranne. “You’re the last group, and I’m sending you into some difficult play. You three are the perfect party to tackle the mid-sized bosses we’ve created in the Dire Swamp. Tank, healer, and damage—very well balanced.”
“Hey, I’m a tank, too.” Roy’s lips twisted in a scowl.
Mr. Chon sent a sharp glance toward Jennet and Spark. “Ladies, I need you two in game. Yesterday.”
Of course Spark was ready to go—seated and geared up—while Jennet hovered beside the chair, mind whirling.
“Good luck,” Tam said, his voice strained.
Jennet met his gaze, sure he could see the panic in her eyes. Tam wasn’t going to be entering Feyland until half an hour after she and Spark. Plus, he had Coranne Smith with him, who was a spy for VirtuMax, no question.
She swallowed, fear tightening her throat. “See you later,” she said.
Hopefully not too much later, but she couldn’t see a way they could make this work. She pulled her helmet on, and the outside world receded.
“You in yet?” Spark asked over the headset.
“Almost.” Jennet’s Spellcaster materialized in the castle gardens. “I’m at the castle. You?”
“The tavern. Meet you at the front gates.”
Maybe they would knock the quests off quickly, and she could go find Tam. And maybe the sky would start raining roses, too. Jennet shook her head and hurried through the cobbled streets of the city, heading for the tall gates. The heavy sensation in her stomach was the feeling of swallowing leaden truth. Everything was working against them. It was going to be impossible to reach the Twilight Kingdom today.
But she had to try.
Jennet passed through the gates, walking past a row of guards who didn’t even glance her way. Outside the city walls an elegant blue pavilion stood, open on three sides. Silver streamers glittered in the breeze, and she could see the bright magenta flash of Spark’s hair under the billowing cloth.
“I’m at the tent,” Spark said. “Come on over.”
Her fox-eared avatar stood before a pair of tall, pale figures. They, too, had ears pointing out of their silvery hair, but the elves’ ears were long and delicate. Large, luminous eyes the color of the ocean watched Jennet approach—but there was no hint of consciousness on their angular, computer-generated faces.
Not truly fey folk, which was a good thing. So why was she disappointed no magic lingered about their stately figures?
Spark tilted her head as Jennet approached. “Did you change your avatar?”
“No. Why do you ask?” A sudden chill crept over Jennet’s skin.
“Your hair seems a different color. Maybe it’s a trick of the light.” Spark shrugged one shoulder and turned to the elves.
Jennet glanced down. Sure enough, the black hair she’d chosen for her character had lightened to pale brown. Was fey magic seeping into the game already—or was it only her character that was affected, like with the spider bites?
She swallowed back fear, wishing that Tam was beside her.
“Greetings,” Spark said to the elves. “Welcome to Stronghold city.”
“Young Kitsune.” The figure on the left inclined his head. “We have traveled far, and must send word home to our forest of our safe arrival. Will you and your Spellcaster companion be our messengers?”
“We’ll deliver your messages,” Jennet said.
“Good.” The other elf’s voice was higher pitched, and her features had a more feminine cast. “We shall provide swift steeds to carry you to Pelemor Forest.”
She made an elegant gesture, and two pale horses appeared outside the pavilion. Their manes and tails looked made of spun silver, and their saddles of beaten gold. Pretty, but not too comfortable.
The elves stood there, waiting expectantly. The horses pawed the ground. Clearly she and Spark were supposed to jump on and ride away—but how?
She scanned the bottom of her screen, and saw a silvery M. For mount? She selected it, and a moment later was perched on one of the horses.
Spark tilted her head up at Jennet. A second later, she, too, was mounted.
“Travel well and speedily,” the male elf said.
He snapped his fingers and the horses burst into motion, heading away from the castle. They didn’t take the road up into the forest Jennet’s party had adventured through, nor did they veer off in the direction Spark and Tam had come to reach the city.
Instead, they galloped straight ahead, through golden fields stitched with bright orange flowers. The horses carried them swiftly and smoothly over the landscape. The sky was the color of a painting overhead, and the drowsy buzz of insects filled the air. After a few minutes, they reached a wide, dusty road, and continued along it. Jennet glanced behind them at the little puffs of dust rising from their passage. Good programming, that.
“Hey,” Jennet said, “have you ever played a game where things weren’t what they seemed?”
She hadn’t planned on asking the question, but now that she had, she found herself hoping Spark knew what she meant.
The magenta-haired girl shot her a look. “You mean puzzle or illusion games?”
“No, ones like this—you know, questing, epic fantasy-type stuff. But one where the storyline isn’t actually what’s going on.”
Jennet pressed her lips together. She wasn’t explaining it well, but then, there really was no good way to explain fey magic seeping into a game.
“Not that I know of,” Spark said. “Are you telling me you think Feyland is like that—there’s some bigger meta-game going on underneath?”
“Maybe. Yeah.”
Though it wasn’t planned to be that way. At least, not by the human programmers.
The shadow of wings crossed the road ahead of them. Spark glanced up, then threw herself off her horse.
“Incoming!” she yelled.
Jennet was right behind her, her feet hitting the dusty road. She raised her mage staff, blue-white magefire crackling from the crystal set in the end.
Above them, the sun was blocked out by the descent of a huge red bird. It let out a hoarse cry, its talons extended in attack as it hurtled toward them. Shading her eyes with one hand, Jennet fired a magical blast that hit the creature in the chest.
It screeched and veered toward her. She ducked as the wind of its wings whipped her hair across her face, and skidded for cover behind her horse. The animal just stood there placidly, ignoring the fight exploding around it.
Spark had her bow out and was firing confidently, but despite the arrows sticking out of its chest, the bird seemed unaffected. When Jennet’s next bolt of blue fire hit it, though, the creature cried out again.
“I think it can only be harmed by magic,” Jennet called.
Spark nodded and set aside her bow as their enemy w
heeled away, huge scarlet wings beating. The bird gained altitude, climbing higher into the blue.
Jennet squinted up into the brightness. “Think it’s leaving?”
“No way.” Spark held up her hands, palms out. “Get ready.”
Sudden red blurred the air as the bird tucked its wings and plummeted toward them, a deadly missile of beak and bone and talon. Jennet shot—and missed, her magefire blasting empty air. The sky shuddered, vibrating with the bird’s descent.
A wall of orange fire rose in front of them, heat rippling the air. Jennet glanced at Spark, then raised her staff. Her blue-flickering Sheet of Flame joined Spark’s fire—a double dose of magical energy shimmering between them and the bird.
Their enemy hit the flames. It let out a horrific screech as its feathers caught fire, but it kept coming. Jennet and Spark dove to the ground as bladed talons whistled through the air over their heads.
Jennet’s horse whinnied high and scared as the bird, deprived of its human prey, fastened its talons into the horse instead. Wings still smoking, it rose, bearing the animal with it, and began to flap away.
“Wait,” Jennet cried. “Come back here with my mount!”
She tilted her staff and sent a bolt at the retreating bird, but it didn’t turn around. Soon it was just a dark blot on the horizon.
“Great.”
She turned back to the road, now blackened with fire. A single scarlet feather lay where her mount had stood.
Spark picked the feather up and shook her head.
“Too bad it took your horse.”
Especially when speed was essential. “Maybe we could both ride yours.”
“Worth a try.” Spark mounted. “Come on up.”
Jennet hit her M button, and a second later was sitting atop the horse… but Spark now stood on the road. Jennet blinked, and they had changed places again.
“A single-occupant horse,” Jennet said, scuffing the dirt with her foot. “How un-useful.”
“Put it in the recap notes.” Spark’s voice was dry. “Guess you’re on foot.”
