Marny

by Anthea Sharp

  Even wearing heels, the top of her head didn’t reach Marny’s chin.

  “Right, then,” Brenna said. “Marny, I’ll come get you at one for lunch and a little shopping. Then tomorrow morning, crack of seven thirty, I’ll be here to take you all down to the thirtieth floor, where you’ll receive your assignments. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you three to get settled.”

  “Thanks,” Marny said, trying not to feel a little forlorn as the metal door whooshed closed behind Brenna.

  “Shopping?” Anjah raised a graceful eyebrow. “Aren’t we special.”

  “It’s not that.” Marny calmly held the other girl’s gaze. Anjah’s eyelids glimmered with blue eye shadow. “My luggage got lost in transit. I have nothing except what’s in my backpack.”

  “Aw, bummer,” Wil said. “Though it’s not like there’s any more room for stuff in the bathroom. Anjah’s girly potions have completely taken over.”

  “They have not,” Anjah said. “I left one of the drawers empty.”

  “A drawer will be fine,” Marny said.

  She was used to sharing a bathroom with her two older sisters, younger brother, and Grandma Harmony, who lived with them half the year. Having only three people sharing would be a luxury—even if one of them was evidently quite fond of her makeup.

  “Your room is this way, at the end,” Anjah said, turning to lead her down the hall. “Bathroom’s on the right.”

  Marny peeked in as they went past. Despite Wil’s warning, she was a little amazed at the amount of cosmetics and lotions and perfumes spread out on the pale marble counter. A basket held an array of hair curling/smoothing/straightening/rumpling appliances, their cords escaping like tentacles, and the walk-in shower was lined with colorful plastic bottles.

  The first bedroom door was ajar, showing a spill of jeans and T-shirts and an unmade bed. Wil’s room.

  The second door also stood open. In addition to the standard furniture, Anjah had a hot pink upholstered chair, a white and gold vanity table, a screenie system, and a fluffy cream-colored rug laid over the carpet.

  “When did you arrive?” Marny asked. It looked like both Anjah and Wil were pretty settled in.

  “I’ve been here two days. My mother and I drove down from Vane, and she helped me move in.” Anjah waved her rose-tinted nails. The sparkle of a gem set into her wrist-chip caught the light. No shock there. Marny was fully prepared to be surrounded by ’leet rich people at Intertech.

  Although she had covertly checked out Brenna’s wrist, and the liaison didn’t have an embedded chip. She thought back to her observations from earlier that morning, that maybe having a chip or not wasn’t such a big deal in the city. It would be nice not to deal with the gaping social divide between the haves and the have-nots.

  “Here you are,” Anjah said, gesturing to the last room. “Home sweet home.”

  Marny stepped into her bedroom. It was comfortably furnished with a desk, dresser, and bookshelf, a nondescript picture of a tree on the wall, and best of all, a window that looked out over the city.

  “Nice,” she said.

  “If you like tiny rooms, I suppose.” Anjah gave a dismissive sniff.

  “Right. So, did Wil get here two days ago, too?”

  “He arrived yesterday—flew in from the West Coast,” Anjah said. “Where are you from?”

  “Crestview.” Marny shrugged off her backpack and let it land on the bed’s tan and white coverlet.

  “Never heard of it,” Anjah said.

  “Yeah, it’s not that big a place.”

  “Isn’t that where VirtuMax relocated?” Wil asked from the doorway. He grinned when Marny whirled to face him. “Didn’t mean to surprise you, but I heard you girls say my name, and was hoping for something juicy.”

  Anjah narrowed her eyes at him, as if no one in their right mind would find him attractive. Marny didn’t think he was that bad looking, though he didn’t particularly spark anything for her.

  “That’s right,” she said. “VirtuMax is headquartered in Crestview now. Are you a simmer?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s my rig in the living room. Had to ship it out special.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Got any insider info about what the company’s working on next?”

  “Nope.” She didn’t mention that her best friend worked for VirtuMax. Already there was a too-interested gleam in Wil’s eye. “Also, I don’t sim.”

  “What?” he straightened. “Everybody sims.”

  “I don’t,” Anjah said, pursing her perfect lips.

  “Okay, almost everybody.” Wil cocked his head at Marny. “You look like a gamer.”

  “I am. Just not a simmer.”

  Anjah gave an exaggerated sigh. “You two can squabble over this later. We should show Marny the rest of the apartment.”

  “I saw there’s a kitchen,” Marny said. “Are we supposed to do our own cooking?”

  “Of course not!” Anjah looked horrified at the thought. “That’s what the dining room is for. I keep a few things in the fridge, but you won’t see me cooking.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Wil said. “Personally, I’d rather sleep late and grab a protein shake than get up and go to breakfast.”

  “But you guys won’t mind if I cook sometimes?” Marny asked, although she wasn’t planning on it.

  For starters, she didn’t have a lot of extra money to buy food, and the dining room was included as part of her internship. But it was nice to have the option to make her own meals, especially since she had no idea about the quality of the Intertech food. It might be decent, judging by the apartment. Still, she never knew when she’d need to cook up some comfort food. Spicy chicken curry, coconut bread—two dishes she’d bet were not offered on the dining room menu.

  “Sure, cook away.” Wil shrugged. “But if whatever you make is good, I want some.”

  “It’ll be delicious,” she said. “Maybe too spicy for you, though.”

  “Hey, I’m adventurous.”

  “Stop flirting with the girl,” Anjah said. “I have to get ready to go to brunch.”

  “That’s not for another two hours,” Wil said. “Jeez.”

  “I need to choose something to wear, and redo my makeup,” Anjah said, in a tone of voice that implied Wil was an idiot.

  “You just want to get there super early so you can sit at a table with that cute tech guy,” Wil said.

  “Lies.” Anjah blushed though, just a little.

  “I saw you chatting him up last night,” Wil said.

  Clearly, two days were long enough for Anjah to start on a love life. Privately, Marny thought it was foolish to go down that path. Work and romance didn’t mix, and besides, interns were only around for two months. Any relationship would have to come to an unhappy end at that point.

  But she wasn’t going to say as much to Anjah. The girl clearly had a sharp side, and Marny didn’t relish the idea of getting cut up over something small. She’d save herself for the big fights, which she had no doubt lay in their future. In direct contrast to Wil, Anjah didn’t seem like the easygoing type. At all.

  “I guess I’ll get settled in, then,” Marny said. Not that it would take her long to empty her backpack.

  “Welcome to your new temporary home,” Wil said.

  “Yes. I’m sure we’ll become good friends.” Anjah sent her a gleaming smile.

  Her teeth were unnaturally white. She looked like a perfect doll, but Marny knew better than to judge by appearances. If Anjah had scored an internship, she had formidable brains and talent behind that glamorous façade.

  When her new roomies left, Marny closed the door and took a breath. Well. Here she was.

  Ignoring the zing of homesickness in her belly, she strode over to the window and looked down. The streets were laid out in orderly patterns, with bars of shadow thrown across the city from the taller buildings. The faint vibration of traffic drifted up, and people scurried around on the sidewalks. It was a strange perspective, like she was floating abo
ve the world. What did the air even smell like up here?

  Not that she could crank open any of the windows and find out. Everything this far up was sealed shut, which made sense. Didn’t want some overworked employee taking a swan dive from the Intertech building—the PR would be terrible.

  Still, half of her believed that if she opened a window and stepped out into that high, clear air, she could fly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  April

  “My liege.” The woody form of the spriggan guard bowed before the Bright King’s throne. “It is as you said. A mortal boy has stepped into the Realm.”

  “Good.” The king brought his fingertips together. “Bring him to me.”

  “I fear… there is a difficulty, your highness.”

  The spriggan trembled, like a tree whipped by the wind. Behind him, his brethren took a step back. It was never wise to upset the monarch.

  The clearing of the Bright Court quieted, the harp falling silent as the king’s gaze filled with wrath.

  “Pray tell me why you cannot lead the human here. Has he dealt with the Realm of Faerie and its creatures before, and thus is wary and wise?”

  “I know not.” The guard’s voice scraped like branches rubbing together. “The mortal appears, remains for a short time, and somehow carries a piece of the Realm with him when he departs.”

  “Then follow him!” The king’s voice was sharp.

  “We have tried.” The spriggan gestured to his comrades, and they nodded in confirmation. “He goes, and the way is closed to us. We can see a part of the Realm, but it exists as in a bubble, floating separate and unreachable beyond our grasp.”

  The Bright King’s eyes narrowed, and the light falling over the court deepened toward sunset. “Be quicker. Next time he must not be allowed to escape.”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  “Go—and return successful, or not at all.”

  The king dipped one long-nailed finger into his goblet, then flung a droplet at the spriggan. It landed on the guard’s arm, the spot smoking and hissing, but the creature knew better than to flinch. He made a low bow and, in the red glow of the king’s anger, backed away and rejoined his comrades.

  They patted his knobby shoulders, awkward in the knowledge that he would never again set foot in the Bright Court.

  May

  Nyx stood at the doorway of the empty warehouse, satisfaction swooping through him like a hawk spotting its prey.

  “This could do,” he said to Babs, the real-estate agent helping him find the perfect building to rent. “Let’s go inside.”

  She gave a dusty little sigh. For the last five weeks—in between studying for finals, graduating from high school, and figuring out his crazy new ability—Nyx had been searching for the ideal space.

  As far as he’d been able to determine from hours of searching the ’net, he was the first and only person able to create magical forests from playing a sim game. That was an ability that deserved to be showcased. And he knew just how he wanted to do it.

  At first, the real-estate agent had been energetic and positive, showing him office complexes and storefronts. But none of them had been right for what his imagination, and new business venture, required.

  “Could do,” Babs said, clearly tired of presenting him place after place with no luck.

  But this…

  Nyx flipped the lights on and strode forward, his boots thudding over the concrete floor. The space was tall—over three stories high. In addition to the huge main warehouse, smaller offices lined the west wall and there were a couple outbuildings butted up against the outside.

  Big windows let in light, but he could paint over the lower ones so nobody could see in. Even better, the building took up a whole city block, just south of downtown Newpoint. The surrounding area contained more warehouses, some abandoned, and a beverage-bottling plant that shut down from ten p.m. to six in the morning. No neighbors to pry and ask nosy questions, or lodge complaints about his hours of operation.

  “Yeah,” he said, the word echoing through the quiet space. “I think this is the place.”

  “You do?” Babs hurried over, her expression perking up. She could smell the commission.

  “Let’s look at the whole thing,” he said. “If there are no surprises, I’d like to discuss terms with the landlords today.”

  “Excellent! I believe the bathrooms are this way.” She turned to the right, a sudden bounce in her step.

  Nyx glanced at the metal-girded ceiling high overhead, and smiled. The space was big enough to host his magical forest. He’d have to do some work with the positioning, of course, to make it seem like it was an illusion cast inside the warehouse, but it was way doable.

  In addition, there was plenty of room to put an espresso and juice bar in one corner, figure out the dance floor situation, and install some comfy seating and gaming equip. Plus fix up an area he could live in. Extra bonus: the warehouse was even bigger than the dojo where he went to work out, and would make a great space to practice his martial arts.

  It was going to be perfect.

  Club Mysteria—where enchanted worlds become real…

  Of course, everyone would think it was all high-end mixed reality generation and special effects. Look at the amount of convincing it had taken to get his sister to believe the magic was actually real.

  The very first thing he’d had to do, back in March, was figure out how and why the enchanted forest had appeared in his bedroom. It had something to do with playing Feyland, he was sure, so he needed to spend as much time in-game as possible until he found some answers. He’d pretended to be too sick to go to school, making loud retching noises in the bathroom where his parents could hear, and refusing food.

  As soon as everyone left the house, though, he’d scarf down peanut butter and banana sandwiches, pound a couple energy drinks, and start simming. After that first night the forest had appeared, it had taken him four days of practically nonstop gaming to find the answer.

  Day One: Nothing except a ton of in-game questing and killing monsters. No glimmering trees growing in his bedroom that night.

  Day Two: More of the same. Still no forest.

  Day Three: Time to play smarter. He started retracing his steps, trying to recreate the adventures and remember the quests he’d done on the day of the magical manifestation.

  Day Four: Halfway through tromping around in-game, he finally recalled he’d done a small quest to gather fallen leaves from the Sylven Glades. For some reason, he’d ended up with an extra leaf in his character inventory. At the time, he’d thought it just a glitch.

  Was that it? He couldn’t imagine how an extra in-game item could conjure up a magical forest in his room, but it was the only unusual thing that had happened. With a shrug, he turned his Archer character toward the Sylven Glades.

  Leaping through the meadows of bright flowers, feeling the sun and breeze on his face, Nyx had to admit that the immersion tech of Feyland was prime. The company had done an amazing job with the game. Seriously, he felt like he was really there.

  Ahead, the silvery trees of the glade rose into the purple-tinged sky. He slowed down and pulled an arrow from his quiver. There was a big, wicked boar that guarded the glade. On his last visit, it had taken him by surprise, and only Nyx’s extra Archer agility had kept him from failure. He’d used a Death-Defy leap and managed to land an arrow in the creature’s eye.

  This time he crept forward, arrow nocked to the string. The mossy ground cushioned his footsteps as he moved into the glade. Pale trunks rose around him and a faint wind shivered the leaves, their undersides flashing like moonlight. Breathing quietly, he moved toward the center clearing where the huge copper-leafed tree stood.

  A stray sunbeam illuminated the tree, making the leaves glow like little suns. Nyx paused. He’d turned in the leaf quest already. Would he even be able to pick up one of those gleaming leaves scattered on the ground?

  He took one step into the clearing, then whirled at the
sound of grunting and rustling behind him. Fast and fierce, the wild boar charged. Its tusks were long and pointed, its eyes full of rage.

  Heartbeat racing, Nyx shot an arrow at the creature. The shaft bounced off its armored hide, and the boar kept coming.

  Forcing his hands steady, he grabbed another shaft and sent it flying. This one landed in the boar’s chest, and it gave an angry squeal. But it didn’t slow down. Ah, crap.

  Nyx glanced at the dagger strapped at his waist. Nope, he didn’t think his chances of hand-to-hand—or tusk-to-blade—were very good. Whirling, he dashed to the tree dominating the center of the glade.

  He circled the huge trunk, half his attention on the animal closing in on him, half on the coppery branches. Come on! There had to be a limb low enough for him to climb.

  One time around the tree. Breath rasping in his throat, Nyx risked a glance behind him. The trunk was so enormous he couldn’t see the boar, but he could hear it grunting. Getting closer. He kept going.

  Twice around. Should he make a stand, hope for a lucky shot? He pulled another arrow from his quiver, but something made his feet keep moving. He imagined he could feel the boar’s hot breath at his heels. Good thing the animal was too dumb to switch directions.

  Adrenaline pumped through Nyx. Running around the copper tree yet again was ridiculous. This was it. He’d have to turn and face the boar.

  He slowed, then blinked at the big branch just above eye level. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier?

  He leaped, caught a decent handhold, and swung himself up. Without stopping to think, he balanced on the rough, coppery bark, nocked his bow, and shot at the boar racing below him.

  The arrow plunged into the top of its skull. It kept running a few more steps, then suddenly fell over. No blood, no cries of pain. A moment later, the body disappeared in a shimmer of blue light.

  Nyx let out a long breath.

  “Thanks,” he said to the tree, reaching over to give the trunk a pat. For sure that branch hadn’t been there before.

  The leaves rang together, with a sound like jingling coins. One perfect, shiny leaf drifted down, right past his face. Nyx swiped at it, missed, and lost his balance. The tree shook, as if it were laughing at him.