by Anthea Sharp
By the time Lassiter and Marny got up the stairs, he had the door open.
Inside, thorny vines covered the walls and hung from the ceiling, bearing bright orange flowers shaped like mouths. The changeling had been busy again.
“Korrigan?” Tam called as they stepped into the living room.
It felt more like an exotic jungle than a room. Slippery yellow-green moss muffled his footsteps, and was that a waterfall in the kitchen? At least it completely camouflaged the messy reality of his house.
“You have a way with decorating, Exie,” Lassiter said. He reached a finger out to touch one of the flowers, then jerked it back when the mouth opened and hissed at him, showing needle-sharp fangs. “Jeez.”
“Come out, Korr.” Marny said. She reached into her pack and drew out a foil-wrapped bar. “I’ve got a treat for you.”
“Protein bar?” The changeling appeared, dangling from a vine attached to the ceiling. He reached a clawed hand out. “Give it.”
Marny waved it at him. “A little less jungle, please. And ditch the carnivorous flowers.”
Korrigan screwed up his ugly face. “You mortals have no appreciation for the spice of danger.”
“We have more than enough danger going on right now,” Tam said. He glanced at Lassiter, who was watching the changeling with wide eyes. “Seen enough?”
The other boy swallowed, all his bravado gone. “Yeah.”
“So, you believe us?” Tam asked. He wanted to hear Lassiter admit that he’d been wrong.
“Fine, fine. You were right.” The other boy kept glancing at Korrigan. “I guess if we can be transported to Feyland, its creatures can come out.”
“You have no idea,” Tam said. “Alright, let’s go.”
“One sec, let me vid this.”
Lassiter pulled out the slimmest messager Tam had ever seen and held it up. He scanned the room, lingering on the figure of Korrigan who hung by one arm and foot, noisily munching the bar Marny had given him.
“Smile,” Marny said to the changeling.
Korrigan opened his mouth in a hideous expression, his lips a gaping slash too wide to be human, his teeth pointed, his eyes slitted nearly shut.
“Nice.” Lassiter flicked off the vid and pocketed his messager.
“Have fun, guys,” Marny said.
Tam frowned at the changeling. “No more water features in the kitchen, ok?”
Korrigan grimaced at him, which was at least better than the changeling’s horrific smile.
“I’ll make him clean up,” Marny said. “I have the rewards, you know.”
“Protein bars.” Tam shook his head. He’d never have thought the changeling liked them, not after that first experience.
“Go,” Marny said. “And be careful.”
“You too. Keep the door fully locked.”
Tam stepped onto the landing, the feeling of being watched prickling between his shoulders. It was past time to get that excruciatingly obvious car of Lassiter’s out of the Exe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
Jennet tapped out the answer to another math equation on her tablet, then glanced at her messager for the hundredth time. It lay silent and dark on the corner of her desk. Were the boys and Marny all right? It was too easy to get into trouble in the Exe. She bit her lip, worry shredding her concentration.
She couldn’t do another math problem or she’d scream. Pushing away her homework, she grabbed the messager and stared at it. Could it be broken?
It dinged in her hand, and she jumped. Relief skidded through her when she saw the message from Roy.
:We’re at the palace. Come on over:
On top of the danger of the Exe had been the danger Roy wouldn’t believe them, even when confronted with the changeling. Thank goodness he’d shown a little sense. With Roy, you couldn’t always be sure.
“HANA,” she said, addressing the house.
“Yes, Miss Carter?”
“Let the staff know I’m going out to ride my g-board. And I’ll be visiting Roy Lassiter’s for a bit.”
“Noted. Please return home before dark.”
Five minutes later she was standing in front of the imposing façade of the Lassiters’ mansion, her board tucked under her arm. Her cheeks stung from the cold, and her ears felt numb. The cameras mounted at the entryway swiveled onto her, then the massive doors slowly swung open. Always ones for a grand gesture, the Lassiters.
“Hey, blondie,” Roy said, meeting her at the entry, all his cocky assurance restored.
She stepped into the cool stone-floored foyer and propped her board against the wall. “I take it you were convinced.”
He nodded, the light sliding over his brown hair. It was a muddier color than Tam’s and not as straight. Once, under the influence of fey magic, he’d sported a head of bronzed hair with the most perfect hint of curl. But that was back when he’d been impersonating his better self. At least physically.
And though he still looked as average as ever, she had to admit his personality was marginally improved.
“Where’s Tam?” she asked.
“Getting the systems ready. Come on.”
Roy led the way down the tall, canyon-like hallway. Shadows shrouded the ceiling, and the few sconces shed weak puddles of light on the walls. At the far end towered another set of double doors. They silently opened and Jennet shivered, though she knew it was just the Lassiter’s house network sensing their approach.
Beyond the doors lay the theater. True to its name, it came complete with rows of seats and a floor-to-ceiling screen. But what always stole Jennet’s breath was the number and variety of game systems showcased along the walls—netscreens, moto-sense setups, and dozens of sim systems. Even though she’d seen it before, she still found it stunning.
“What did Tam think of all this?” She waved her hand at the display.
“Oh, he was impressed.” Roy grinned at her. “But he tried not to show it.”
Jennet raised an eyebrow. She was impressed, too. Not by the crazy display of tech wealth, but that Roy had actually left Tam alone with all that valuable equipment.
Roy led her to the FullD systems, partitioned off behind frosted glass panels. His mom, being the CEO of VirtuMax, collected a model of every prototype the company made—which meant the Lassiters had three complete FullD setups. Spot lighting from above illuminated the systems, gleaming off the helmets and supple synth-leather chairs. The LEDs on the gloves twinkled like precious gems.
“There you are,” Tam said, glancing at her through the scrim of hair he’d let fall across his face—always a sign he was worried.
She was too, now that they were about to enter the Twilight Kingdom again.
“I’ll take the middle system,” she said, “since I’ve played on that one.”
Roy nodded, then moved to the FullD on the left. “I’ll be here.”
“I don’t think you can come with us,” Jennet said.
“I’ve been in the Realm before.” Roy narrowed his eyes. “Or are you saying you don’t want me along?”
“Whether we do or not, Jennet and I are going even deeper than Feyland.” Tam slid into his chair and pulled on the gloves. “You can try to follow, but don’t be surprised if you get blocked out.”
Roy’s eyebrows lifted. “There’s something beyond the Realm?”
“Yeah,” Jennet said, picking up her helmet. “It’s called the Twilight Kingdom. And it’s freaky.”
Roy took his seat and started gearing up. “Whatever. I’m still coming into the Realm.”
Jennet didn’t mind. Even if Roy couldn’t make the passage to the Twilight Kingdom, it would be good to have another sword guarding their backs in the Realm. She pulled the helmet on and selected the familiar F key to launch the game.
Dizzying golden light filled her senses, and her stomach lurched. Oh yeah. Back in Feyland for real.
She blinked and took a deep breath as the disorientation faded. Roy’s Mercenary stood to her le
ft, wearing his gleaming gold mail. Bands of gold circled his upper arms, and he wore a huge two-handed sword strapped on his back. On her right was Tam’s Knight, his silver armor shining in the sun. They stood in the middle of a faerie ring of white-spotted red mushrooms. A warm breeze swirled the leaves of the trees rising at the edge of the clearing, where a mossy green path led between the silvery trunks.
“Back to being a fox-girl?” Roy asked.
She glanced down at the vest and leggings she wore, the dagger at her waist. “Right. I made a Kitsune on your system.”
It felt strange to be playing this character again. She scanned through her list of abilities, hoping they wouldn’t have any big fights ahead.
“Will the Twilight Kingdom let you in as a different character?” Roy asked.
“They better.” Tam set his hand on the pommel of his sword. “She’s still Jennet, after all. Ready?”
She nodded, and they stepped out of the ring.
“Puck?” Jennet called, glancing into the forest.
“Aha!” The sprite’s voice rang through the clearing, and a moment later he appeared, springing from the lower branches of a nearby tree. He landed nimbly before them and cocked his head. “You bring the Royal One into the Realm as well? A curious choice.”
“Got a problem with that, little guy?” Roy folded his arms.
“Stop it,” Jennet said. “We have more important things to do than argue.”
“Jennet is right,” said a tall figure striding out from between the pale-barked trees.
“Thomas!” she cried, flinging herself into his arms. “I wasn’t sure we’d see you again.”
He was solid and familiar. She blotted her eyes on the fine linen fabric of his shoulder, then let go of her fierce hug and stepped back
“Why can you come here?” Tam asked. “Judging by the mushrooms, we’re in Bright Court territory.”
“The fey monarchs have made a truce.” Thomas regarded them with wise and weary eyes. “As the queen’s Bard, I serve as ambassador, and am granted passage over the Seelie Court’s lands.”
“Who is this guy?” Roy asked.
“This,” Jennet said, “is Thomas Rimer. Lead developer and programmer for Feyland.”
“But…” Roy’s voice went high. He cleared his throat. “But he’s dead.”
“Am I?” Thomas held out his hands and studied them. “I am not, perhaps, real in the sense that you know, but I exist nonetheless.”
“Inside a computer game?” Roy backed up a step.
Tam turned to the other boy, the edge of impatience in his green eyes. “You know magic is real—you’ve used it yourself. Why is this any stranger?”
“Are we going to get trapped in here too?” Roy asked.
His knuckles were white, fisted tight, and Jennet suspected he wanted to bolt back into the ring and log out.
“I am not trapped,” Thomas said. “Not in the sense you mean. No, I chose this.”
Jennet squeezed the bard’s arm. It was comfortingly sturdy under her fingers.
“Dad told me you had terminal cancer,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“The doctors didn’t catch it until far too late.”
“So you, what?” Roy made a wild gesture with one hand. “You programmed yourself into Feyland so you wouldn’t die?”
“Nobody could do that,” Tam said. “It was magic, obviously.”
“Tamlin is correct,” Thomas said. “Twas the magic of the Realm. My body was failing. I traded my life to serve the Dark Queen.”
Suspicion blazed through Jennet like a falling star. Thomas had died last summer—when she’d lost her in-game battle with the queen and fallen ill. She’d been hospitalized in critical care, the doctors unable to tell exactly what was wrong with her. It had been grim, until the day she’d woken up feeling a hundred percent better.
Which was right around the time Thomas was found, his lifeless body in his sim chair, still hooked up to the FullD system.
She whirled on him. “Thomas! You sacrificed yourself for me. How could you do that?” Tears burned, hot and bright, in the corners of her eyes.
“Ah, Jennet.” His voice was soft. “You were not destined to waste away, a victim of the queen’s dark magic. I was dying in any case. It was an easy choice.”
Tam put his hand on her shoulder. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Two good men had given themselves to the Dark Queen, for her. She had saved Tam, but…
“You can’t ever come back to our world, can you?” she asked.
Thomas shook his head, sorrow lingering on his lips. “I cannot, as you know.”
“I wish you could.” She swallowed salt.
“Complete the task you have been set,” he said. “Restore the balance. That will be payment enough.”
“Restore the balance… what does that even mean?” Tam asked.
Puck, who had been uncharacteristically silent during this exchange, sprang into the air. “It means you must go, now, into the Twilight Kingdom and wake the Elder Fey.”
At his words, a breeze rose, shimmering the leaves on the trees.
“But, my brother—” Tam began.
“He is well enough,” Thomas said. “There is still time to free him—but your first task must be completed.”
Roy stepped forward, his brown eyes full of questions. “Can I help?”
Jennet glanced at him. She’d never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth, especially spoken with such sincerity.
“Only Fair Jennet and Bold Tamlin can pass the borders of the Realm into the Twilight Kingdom,” Puck said.
“Why?” Roy frowned.
“It is not your quest to complete, Royal One,” Thomas said. “Be assured, your strengths will be called upon—sooner than you might think. Now, bide here with me while the others journey on.”
“Quickly, quickly.” Puck caught Jennet’s sleeve and tugged her toward the mossy path.
“Thomas.” Jennet’s voice caught. “Will I see you again?”
“Most assuredly.” He touched her shoulder. “Be of good heart.”
Vision blurring, she let Puck haul her away. Tam was next to her, his calm strength steadying her until she could blink the tears from her eyes.
“Here.” Puck stopped midway down the path and pointed into the woods. “Through the bracken fern, you will find your portal. The queen calls me now, and I must not tarry. Nor should you. Good luck, mortals!”
He whisked away into the underbrush and was gone.
Tam caught her hand as they left the path, heading for the faint, purplish glow a few yards ahead. Another faerie ring formed of pale-stalked mushrooms—their gateway to the Twilight Kingdom.
Tam pulled her to him and pressed a kiss on her lips, warm and firm.
“Here we go,” he said. “Into the Twilight Kingdom.”
Heart beating fast in her throat, she nodded. She desperately hoped it was for the last time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
Icy cold grabbed Tam; stealing his breath, freezing his blood. He was sure he was dying. Then the darkness lifted and he could see again. He knelt in the center of a faerie ring, Jennet beside him, while the tall, strange trees of the Twilight Kingdom waved over their heads.
In the purple light her skin was too pale, her eyes dark hollows in her face. Tam pulled her close, their bodies trembling as they tried to get warm. He coughed and tasted blood, metallic on his tongue.
“That journey’s—not getting any easier,” she said.
If anything, it was getting worse. The air rasped his lungs, and he blinked hard, trying to focus his vision in the eerie dimness. The Twilight Kingdom was not a place for mortals. Staying here too long, or returning once more, would kill them. He felt the truth of it down to his bones.
“Whatever it takes to wake the Elder Fey, we’re doing it,” he said. “Because we’re not coming back here.”
He stood, though his legs still felt weak, and gave Jennet a h
and up. They rose into the air, past the wavery trees, until the landscape spread below them. The foothills of the mountains loomed, jagged and dark, just ahead.
“Do you feel it?” Jennet asked.
“Yeah.”
The moment they cleared the trees, he’d been aware of a tugging sensation in his chest, pulling him toward the dark mass of the peaks. Something wanted them to go there. He only hoped it wasn’t something looking for a human snack.
As he and Jennet approached, he scanned the barren slopes. He flew higher, the wind whipping his hair. Higher still. Until…
“There.” Jennet pointed to an opening in the rock limned with orange light.
“I hope we’re not flying into a live volcano. That could get messy.”
“At least it would be warm.”
Tam angled for the opening. It looked like a cave mouth, but as he got closer he saw it was too regular to be a normal cave. The opening was ten feet high and perfectly rounded at the top. A whiff of sulfur stung his nose. Slowly he descended to a floor paved with huge, smooth blocks of obsidian.
Jennet landed next to him. She looked better—or maybe it was the orange light softening the shadows on her face.
“A tunnel,” she said, peering deeper into the opening.
He wasn’t giving up the volcano theory. In addition to the smell, the air was warmer here. Soft gusts chased the last of the chill from his body.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Tam…” Jennet gave him an anxious look. “I can’t fly.”
He imagined rising up into the air—but nothing happened. His feet remained firmly on the dark stone. Looked like the rules had changed again, once they were inside the mountain.
“Then we walk,” he said.
One hand on his sword, he led the way. His armored feet rang over the smooth floor, though Jennet was silent behind him. The tunnel began sloping down, and the orange light grew brighter, the last sliver of dim purple sky disappearing behind them. As he’d feared, the temperature was rising.
He glanced at Jennet. Determination shone from her blue eyes, and she gripped her staff tightly in one hand. Crazy love surged in his blood, so sweet and strong he could barely breathe, could barely move. He would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.
