by Anthea Sharp
“I will.” He’d patted his mom’s arm. “It’s not as if I’m going far.”
“Unlike me in three years, when I’m actually going off to college like the smart people do,” Emmie said.
“You’d be lucky to make a fraction of your brother’s income in three years,” Dad said mildly. “I believe he’s on track to be a millionaire by the age of twenty-five.”
“And you’ll have a pile of debts, instead.” Nyx took a bite of mashed potatoes, then grinned at her, letting some of the potato slip through his teeth.
“Ew. You are so immature. I don’t understand at all how you manage to make so many credits—or have so many fans. People are idiots.”
Nyx shrugged. The truth was, he’d been surprised at how many people had subscribed to his Flail channel to watch him and his best friend play old-school games.
“Durham has all the fans,” Nyx said, though he knew they both had plenty of followers.
“At least he’s good-looking. You, I just don’t get.” Emmie shook her head.
“Some people appreciate the subtle, dangerous look,” Nyx’s mom said, giving her husband a fond glance.
Nyx shared his dad’s lean build and prominent cheekbones, though Dad’s hair was a shade darker than Nyx’s amber blond. And Nyx had more muscles, from all his time in the dojo.
“Mom.” Nyx could feel the top of his ears heating. “People just like to watch two guys joking around while they play old console games.”
Though he had to admit they’d provided some fine entertainment. He and Durham had always been able to crack each other up. Add in the vintage gaming angle, and their channel had been surprisingly popular. And profitable.
It had started with an ancient Pac-Man machine Durham’s dad excavated from the back of Dur’s grandpa’s garage. They’d decided to fix it up and play, and Nyx had suggested they do it live, on his Flail channel.
People had started to notice and send money, plus requests for other games and setups. Nyx and Durham had done some serious digging around on the ’net and in local junk stores to find outdated equip and obscure games. Their few dozen subscribers had turned to hundreds, and then thousands.
“Too bad your popularity has peaked,” Emmie said, in a fake-sympathetic voice.
“Nothing lasts forever,” Nyx said, taking a bite of salad.
“And you’re on to the next project,” his dad said. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to learn a lot. Let me know if you need any more business advice.”
It was a sincere—and valuable—offer. Charles Spenser had started and sold a lot of businesses over the years. Even though they didn’t live extravagantly, Nyx knew his parents had over a million credits stashed away in investments.
“Thanks,” Nyx said. “Your help on the initial plan was great. But I really want to do this on my own.”
So here he was, standing in his new building, about to embark on an adventure even bigger than his dad suspected. Because how did you explain magical game interfaces on a business plan without sounding like a complete nerf? He’d glossed over those parts, saying stuff about state-of-the-art immersive tech, and mixed reality projectors and smoke machines and things.
At least Emmie had backed him up. For a price.
“Let me help,” she’d said when he’d first told her what he was planning. Not that he’d intended to tell her, but she was relentless, and he’d ended up confiding his plans just to shut her up.
“No helping,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes in that way that meant trouble. “If you don’t involve me, I’ll tell Dad that you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” he lied.
“Do you really want him to know that your entire business plan is based on some magical overlap thing you can’t even explain?”
“I can explain it.” Sort of. Okay, not really.
She sniffed and tossed her teal-dipped hair over her shoulder. “Right. I’d like to see that show. Let me know, and I’ll bring the popcorn.”
“Great idea. I’ll sell tickets.”
“Really, Nyx.” Her voice went serious as she dropped the annoyed-little-sister routine. “I can back you up about the fake tech stuff you’re telling Dad. Plus it will be good to have somebody around who knows the actual truth.”
He blew a breath out his nose and regarded her for a minute, but in his gut he knew she was right.
From then on she’d been helpful, down to the whole managing-the-juice-bar idea. Of course, she’d also made him agree to pay her way over minimum wage. He’d put up a token resistance and pretended to be outraged, but it was actually a good deal for him. There were financial loopholes around hiring a relative in a family business—loopholes their Dad had been using for years to employ his kids. Both Nyx and Emmie had learned a lot about business, whether they’d wanted to or not.
Tomorrow she’d come in and start getting the juice bar ready. The club’s grand opening was in just ten days. He knew that was pushing it, but he’d already printed up old-school flyers, and hired a digi-ad firm to send auto-notifications to all open messagers and tablets in the area and launch the club’s social media campaign.
In addition to all that promo, Durham was fine with mentioning the club on their Flail channel. Nyx didn’t expect all of their hundred thousand fans worldwide to attend the opening, but there were probably some locals who’d come check it out.
“Hello?” A woman in a brown jumpsuit stuck her head through the main warehouse door. “Delivery for Onyx Spenser. This the place?”
That must be the stuff he’d ordered for his bedroom.
Nyx went out to help unload the truck parked outside. The two delivery people handled the big boxes, and he directed them through the echoing space and through the hall leading to the living area.
“First room on the right, past the bathrooms,” he called.
Ten minutes later, surrounded by empty cardboard and half-assembled furniture, he wished he’d made Emmie come in early. Assembling a bedframe by himself was a pain, and he didn’t want to bother the construction guys. They had bigger jobs to take care of.
It took him way longer than he wanted, but he finally finished putting everything together. He scooted the mattress over and let it fall onto the frame, then opened the boxes of bedding and tossed the sheets and covers on his new bed. Nothing would stop him from spending the night in his own place, especially after he’d been so insistent about it with his mom.
Besides, he had some experimenting to do.
At first, he’d thought about embedding some of the Feyland leaves into the building itself, but quickly discarded that idea. He wanted to be able to change things around, not be stuck with the enchanted forest forever. Though it was a good place to start. The trick was going to be lining the anchors up correctly so that the forest started in the warehouse, facing the front door.
He’d figured out in his bedroom that no matter which way he positioned the forest, it never showed from the outside of his house. Once, though, he’d had a close call with the meadow spilling out into the hallway. He’d barely destroyed the blue flower anchor before his mom got to the top of the stairs.
Right now, though, the construction crew was still at work, and he was hungry. Nyx pulled on his black jacket and headed out, waving to the workers as he went. There was a good noodle shop a couple blocks north of him, on the edge of downtown. He had the feeling he’d be eating a lot of ramen in the coming weeks.
The air smelled of machine oil and the dusty end of a warm day. Ahead of him the skyline of Newpoint sparked silver and gold, the skyscrapers catching the setting sun. The Intertech building rose above them, dominating the view. He idly counted floors, until he lost track somewhere in the forties. What did they even do in there all day?
In middle school, his class had taken a field trip to the building. He didn’t remember much about the trip except for long, clean hallways, a bunch of offices, and Durham getting in trouble for trying to sneak away from the back of th
e tour.
Dur hadn’t gotten far, though, before the security cameras spotted him and a burly guy had escorted him back to the class.
“What’d you do that for?” Nyx had whispered.
“I wanted to see the whole thing,” Durham had whispered back. “I hear there’s like a city up on the top floors. Someday I want to work for Intertech.”
“No way. Not me.”
Already, Nyx had discovered a taste for running his own projects. An entrepreneurial mindset, his dad called it. The idea of going to work for a corporate behemoth and being enclosed in a giant building all day held no appeal.
Durham, though, had tried for the big-deal Intertech internship, but hadn’t gotten in. Apparently they were notoriously hard to land. Nyx had commiserated, but in his opinion his friend would be better off heading to the fancy college he’d gotten into than shackling himself to a desk job at an early age. Even if there was a secret city at the top of the skyscraper.
Nyx gave the gleaming building a last glance, then ducked into the busy, cramped restaurant. The smell of garlic and a cloud of steam welcomed him as he took an empty chair at the counter.
It didn’t matter what happened in the city’s tallest skyscraper. Beyond keeping his tablet connected to the ’net, the doings of Intertech had no bearing on his life. He had much more important things to spend his time thinking about—like how he was going to install hidden compartments in the walls without the construction guys noticing.
CHAPTER SIX
June 22
By the end of the day, Marny’s happiness was overlaid with a fog of exhaustion. Her mind felt stretched in all kinds of new ways from the brainstorming she’d done with the team and the possible projects they’d come up with for her to pursue.
She leaned against the elevator wall as it went up, her heels burning in the new shoes she’d bought yesterday. Hopefully, her duffel bag had arrived, or she’d be hand-washing her blouse and under things in the sink, and wearing the same clothes tomorrow. Classy.
In another week or so she could probably get away with her Converse high-tops and nicer new jeans, but for her second day on the job, she didn’t want to risk it. Even though she generally didn’t care much what people thought about her, at Intertech it was clear that employees—and interns—had to play by the corporate rules. At least until they learned how to bend them.
The elevator dinged and let her out on the fortieth floor. Marny slipped off her shoes and carried them down the hall, the carpet springy under her stockinged feet. She’d change, make a cup of tea, and enjoy some of the coconut bread her mom had sent with her. The thought of it warmed her heart, and she released a low breath. At least she could taste home, even if she wasn’t there.
Loud, thumping music from Wil’s room greeted her when she stepped into the apartment, followed by Anjah yelling at him through her closed door to turn it down. Maybe having roomies wasn’t that different from living with her siblings, after all.
She glanced around the entry and living room, but there was no sign of her duffel. Damn.
It wasn’t in her bedroom either. Not that she’d expected to see the lumpy green bag there, but still. How long was it going to take the bus company to find one misplaced piece of luggage?
She needed to call Intertech’s front desk again to ask if it had come in yet, and also the bus people to ask them what the heck.
At lunch, she’d taken advantage of the hour-long break to run down to the retail store on the corner and buy a nice big mug for her tea habit, plus some specialty blends. She went into the kitchen, grabbed her fresh box of lavender mint tea, and kicked the kettle on to boil. The cheerful red and orange pattern on her new mug made her smile.
Wil’s music got louder as he opened his door and ambled out. He was wearing a worn T-shirt and sweats—clearly sharing Marny’s impulse to shed her work clothes as quickly as possible.
“Hey there,” he said. “Good day?”
“Yeah, I learned a ton. You?”
“It was great.” He smiled, his eyes lighting up. “Man, I feel like I finally found my tribe. We speak the same language, you know?”
Marny nodded. Although she hadn’t completely bonded with her supervisors, she already felt friendly with Angie and Ser Jellicoe.
“Want a cup of tea?” she asked, lifting her mug and inhaling the minty steam.
“Nah, I’m good. Had a snack earlier. I’ll just grab a soda and get my simming on.” He opened the fridge.
“Could you grab my coconut bread while you’re in there?” Marny asked. “It’s wrapped in foil.”
“Uh.” Wil closed the door and turned, soda can in his hand. “That was yours?”
“Yes.” She didn’t like the guilty look on his face.
“I’m sorry, dude. It’s all gone.”
“It’s what?” She blinked at him, hoping that she’d heard wrong.
He gave her a sheepish smile. “It was really, really good, though.”
“You ate my entire loaf of coconut bread?” A slow, angry burn kindled in her chest. No luggage, and now this?
“I’ll buy you more—it’s just that I was starving, you know?”
“That’s no excuse. And it’s not something you can just replace. That was extremely rude of you.” What kind of people behaved so thoughtlessly? She glared at him. People like Wil, apparently.
“You could peel paint with that stare of yours,” he said. “Anyway, sorry. You can have one of my Peps, if you want.”
“Not the same thing.” She folded her arms. “Never eat my food again without asking.”
“Fine. Sorry.” He stared at the floor a second, then opened his soda can and sidled out of the kitchen.
A minute later he was geared up and immersed in his sim machine. What a dud.
Frowning, Marny lifted the lid of the trash and peeked inside. Sure enough, a crumpled ball of foil shone back at her. With a last glare at Wil, she grabbed her mug of tea and went back to her room.
The hallway smelled like flowery perfume, most strongly in front of Anjah’s door. Marny held her breath until she got inside her room, then let it out in a gust of annoyance.
At least the city was still there, shining outside her window. She wrapped her hands around her mug, absorbing the heat, and went to admire the view.
Slabs of shadow lay across the streets and smaller buildings, and the west-facing windows shone gold with the light of the lowering sun. A few wispy clouds smudged the horizon, maybe enough to hold on to a sunset.
Light glimmered in the corner of her vision and Marny leaned forward, craning her neck to the side. There had been something familiar about that flicker emanating from south of the downtown core.
It came again, a quick shimmer like a tiny firework, barely seen before it disappeared.
She tightened her grip around her tea mug. That had looked uncomfortably like a stray bit of fey magic; a wisp or pixie flitting over the mortal city.
No. Surely there was another explanation.
Somebody was setting off fireworks in a vacant lot or playing with lasers, or it was a reflection off a grav-car as it sped past. Nothing to do with the Realm of Faerie.
But there was no denying the game of Feyland was now everywhere, in worldwide release. Crestview couldn’t be the only place the Realm crossed over into the human world. Why couldn’t it happen here, in Newpoint?
She shivered, and took a quick swallow of her tea.
If something was going tweaked, her friends Tam and Jennet would know. They were the official Feyguard, after all, whereas she was just a normal girl.
Okay, maybe not that normal. She’d seen faeries and helped her friends battle them, as well as fighting by their side when necessary.
Despite the low-level worry winding through her, she smiled briefly at the memory of the fierce little changeling, Korrigan. He was an ugly guy with a mean streak, but brave and loyal when it mattered. If only all the fey folk were like that.
She watched as twilight du
sted the city with ashes, but there was no more sign of the faerie light. If she’d even seen it.
Marny drank the last of her now-cold tea, then grabbed her messager and settled on her bed.
:You there?: she sent in group chat to Tam and Jennet.
:Sec,: Tam replied. :In battle.:
Marny scooched back against the pillows, wishing she had her big Manu Samoa T-shirt to sleep in. She wasn’t necessarily a rugby fan, but Grandma Harmony had brought it to her from her last trip to the islands.
:We’re out. How was your first day?: Jennet sent.
:Good. Tiring.: Marny didn’t bother mentioning her homesickness. :Hey, is anything incoming on the Feyguard radar?:
:Why?: Tam asked, and even from nearly a thousand miles away she could hear the worry in his question.
: Just saw something odd, and wondered. Nothing severe, just twinkly lights.:
:Strange noises?: Jennet sent.
:Like creepy hunting horns? No.: What she may or may not have seen wasn’t the Wild Hunt—and she was grateful for that.
:Hm,: Jennet typed. :Actually, I might need to go to India on Feyguard business—but we haven’t been notified of anything around Newpoint. Pay attention if you have any strange dreams.:
:And keep an eye out,: Tam sent. :You have the power to see beyond normal reality.:
:India?!: Marny was completely distracted by that news. Jennet was being sent to India? Poor Tam. :For how long?:
:Probably a few weeks. An interesting situation has come up. Dad’s coming, too. Sort of like a family vacation.:
:Now with more faeries,: Tam added dryly.
:Ha,: Jennet typed. :Listen, I agree with Tam. Trust your instincts about whatever you see, and stay in touch.:
Not that Jennet could do a lot from halfway across the world. Nor Tam, since he was pretty much tied to VirtuMax with a summer internship the same way Marny was to Intertech. But if she ended up needing Feyguard help, surely it would arrive, in one form or another.
:Okay,: she wrote. :I’ll keep you posted. Goodnight you two.:
