by Anthea Sharp
“A pity,” he said. “You could have a bright future here at Intertech, if you were so inclined. It would be unfortunate if anything marred your time with us.”
Marny swallowed. That sounded like a threat, and she suddenly felt very alone. When cornered, fight back, her Uncle Zeg always said. Don’t be a victim.
“Even if I knew something, I don’t do corporate espionage, Mr. von Coburg. For anyone. So if that’s all you called me in here for, we’re done.” She pushed out of the armchair and stood, glancing around for Bruno.
The guard waited impassively at the door, staring into space like he’d heard nothing of the conversation. Would he allow her to march out of the room? Even if he did, she wasn’t cleared to use the executive elevator, and would have to wait for someone to come activate it for her.
The whole situation was tweaked.
Mr. von Coburg let her stand there awkwardly for a moment, then nodded to his guard. “Bruno, see Miss Fanalua out.”
“Very good, sir.” Bruno motioned her toward the door.
She looked at the CEO. His face was impassive, but there was a pissed-off look in his eyes. Seeing it made her glad and afraid at the same time.
“Goodbye, Mr. von Coburg,” she said.
“It’s been a pleasure.” His tone implied the exact opposite.
Though Marny disliked turning her back on the CEO, she did it anyway, suppressing a shiver as she strode away. Just as she reached the door, he spoke again.
“One more thing, Miss Fanalua. You might want to consider more appropriate footwear in the future.”
Right. He couldn’t resist that last jab, could he? She turned and gave him a sharp nod, then pivoted and followed Bruno out of the plush office. When the doors slid closed behind her, she released her held breath. That had been crazy.
And disturbing.
On one hand, she understood that the leaders of these huge tech companies were sharks. Look at Roy’s mother, after all. CEO of VirtuMax and completely focused on that—to the utter detriment of her family. In that world, Marny supposed it was understandable to try and use every advantage. But to threaten a new intern if they didn’t provide information about a rival company? That wasn’t right.
Was there somebody she could report him to—some watchdog entity that kept big corporations in line? She’d have to find out.
Bruno silently escorted her into the elevator, which took them down to the twenty-eighth floor where the Social Interfaces Design team worked. The elevator door opened into a private foyer, but just past that was a hallway bustling with employees headed to their cubicles.
Time for work. Great.
Marny stepped out of the elevator without a backward glance. The guard wasn’t her ally, and she doubted he’d speak a word against his boss, even if he’d witnessed the whole slimy interaction.
The second the elevator departed, taking Bruno with it, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes to regain her equilibrium. Her chest was tight with anger and something that felt suspiciously like tears. Dammit. Facing off against Dettwiler von Coburg had been one of the scariest things she’d ever done. But Uncle Zeg would have been proud of her for not buckling.
She wished more than anything that she could walk in the door of his simcafé, have him hand her one of his monster cookies, and tell him all about it. But she was on her own.
At least she knew her family loved and supported her, no matter how far away she might be. That knowledge would have to be enough to carry her through.
She pulled in a couple steadying breaths and let the tension flow out of her. Thankfully the little foyer remained empty, though conversation and the smell of coffee filtered into the quiet space.
Maybe she could talk to Brenna about what had happened. And for sure she’d write down the entire interview. Documentation was important, even if nobody ever saw it.
As was showing up to work on time.
With a last, rueful glance at her shoes, Marny pushed away from the wall and headed into the busy hallway. For now, she’d concentrate on her projects with the team—and hope that Mr. von Coburg’s threats had been empty.
CHAPTER NINE
June 24
The smell of crushed oranges and coffee filled the warehouse, along with the high laughter of Emmie and her best friend, Sula. All afternoon they’d been running the juicer and espresso machine, coming up with concoctions and making Nyx taste them. Some of the drinks they’d invented had been surprisingly tasty. And some had been downright hideous.
Nyx counted his paces across the wide concrete floor, marking off the space for his “installation.” He’d measured it twice already, but it never hurt to be extra sure. The orientation of the forest had to be just right, so people entering the club could see the expanse of magical trees but wouldn’t be immediately engulfed in them.
“Hey!” his sister called to him, brandishing a glass of green liquid. “Come try the Goblin Blood.”
Emmie had gone a little crazy with the theme—but maybe that kind of energy was exactly what he needed. And who wouldn’t want to drink something called Pixie Dust (blackberry soda with cranberry sparkles), or exhale Ogre Breath (garlic, ginger, and carrot juice).
When he’d gone to get the permits, the guy at the city office had shaken his head.
“An all-ages club, huh? Tough to turn a profit on those. Last one folded after two months.”
“Why’s that?” Nyx had asked.
“Profit’s in the alcohol, which you can’t serve. Or the live music, but the licensing fees for cover bands will kill you.” The man had given him a hard stare. “Unless this is a front for something illegal. Snow-vaping? Mutant dog fights?”
Nyx had let his distaste show in his eyes. “No. Just a place for people to come hang out with their friends, game some, dance. Feel like they’re someplace else for a little while.”
He hoped.
The man had grunted and let him finish filling out the paperwork on Club Mysteria without further trouble.
And in one more day, Nyx would know whether his venture would succeed, or be a complete failure.
The thought of the grand opening scared him more than anything. He’d never put so much on the line before. Not just the money, though that was substantial, but the dream, the vision. If the club was a flop, it would be very hard for him not to take it personally.
Luckily, Emmie was there, distracting him with her chatter and wild concoctions.
He joined her and Sula in brainstorming more names and drinks, then directed their coffee-fueled energy to draping green gauze and hanging fairy lights. Though the enchanted forest was the main attraction, he wanted a sense of magic to extend to the entry, juice bar, and dance floor, which were all outside the boundary of the game.
Not really a game, his mind said. He shook off the shiver between his shoulder blades. Whatever it was, the various places he’d been able to recreate outside of Feyland weren’t real. They only lasted a day or two, and popped like soap bubbles if the anchors were removed or destroyed. Besides, the forest wasn’t endless, as he’d discovered.
The third time he created the enchanted woods he’d decided to test its boundaries. He’d called Emmie into his room and told her he was heading into the trees.
“What?” She’d given him a wide-eyed look. “What if you get lost in there? What if something eats you?”
“Then you can have my room.” He’d punched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be okay. But if I’m not back in, say, four hours, call Durham.”
“Wake him up in the middle of the night so he can go in and get eaten, too? I don’t think that’s a great plan.”
“For someone who was laughing at my ‘fake’ installation last week, you’re sure concerned.”
Emmie wrinkled her nose at him. “You might be an annoying big brother, but you’re my annoyance. Whatever’s going on in your room with that magical forest is creepy.”
“Which is exactly why I have to
go check it out. I told you, I’m in control of it.” More or less.
“Three hours.” She crossed her arms. “And then I’m telling Mom and Dad, too.”
“Fine.” He picked up the big knife he’d brought up from the kitchen, then turned and faced the shimmering forest.
“Do you think that knife will be enough?” Emmie asked, hovering at his shoulder.
“It’s not like we have any guns in the house. Besides, it’s more for cutting my way out of a trap or something. I am a third-degree black belt, don’t forget.”
“Like that’s going to help when you meet a gigantic ogre who wants a human snack.”
“Then I’ll cut him.” He waggled the knife at her.
“Ohh, so scary.” Despite her tone, he could hear that she was frightened at the thought of him going in.
“Don’t worry, Em.” He tousled her bleached hair. “See you soon.”
She batted his hand away. “I better.”
He strode into the forest. The mossy ground cushioned his steps, and the underbrush smelled like pungent herbs as he brushed past. He turned and waved at Emmie, still visible through the pale-barked tree trunks. It was weird, seeing his messy bed and bright posters at the edge of the woods.
She waved back and he nodded at her, then kept going. A few more steps in, and he couldn’t see his bedroom anymore. Apprehension tightened his breath. What if he really did get lost?
He should have brought something to mark his way: some bright string to tie on the bushes, or chalk to mark the trees. A trail of breadcrumbs. Something. Nyx felt in his pockets, but they were empty, and he didn’t think pocket lint was going to do him much good.
With a mental shrug, he stripped off his faded red T-shirt. Using the knife, he cut through the hem and tore a few long strips from the bottom of the shirt, then ripped them into smaller pieces. He put his shirt back on, now a midriff-baring T. He doubted that any forest creatures were going to start commenting on his abs.
As he moved further into the forest, he tied strips of his T-shirt to the branches every few paces. It wasn’t a perfect system—he’d seen the vids where evil creatures followed the hero, undoing the markers or pointing them to lead back toward danger—but he’d have to take his chances.
The woods didn’t seem that menacing, at any rate.
Liquid birdsong trilled from overhead, and a soft breeze stirred the silvery leaves. Shafts of sunlight illuminated the forest. It was more peaceful than scary.
Movement at the corner of his eye made him whirl, dropping into a defensive stance, but it was only a big orange butterfly flickering through the sunbeams. Nyx drew in a deep breath and kept going. There weren’t any identifying landmarks, just trees and purple-flowered shrubs and a pale blue sky overhead with no clouds.
A spot of color ahead caught his eye, something red wrapped around a branch. It looked suspiciously familiar. Shaking his head, Nyx headed for it, weaving between the trees.
Sure enough, it was a strip of his shirt. Somehow he’d gone in a circle, which seemed kind of impossible. Admittedly, he’d grown up in the suburbs of Newpoint and wasn’t a woodsman by any stretch. But he had a decent sense of direction and could have sworn he’d been headed in a straight line since he’d stepped into the forest.
“Fine,” he said. “Are we playing games?”
The only answer was the rustle of silver leaves in the wind.
Nyx turned his back on the scrap of fabric and headed away, at a right angle from the direction he’d approached. A few steps later, he groaned. Ahead, a strip of his T-shirt dangled from another branch.
“Very funny.” He had the feeling no one was listening.
The whole thing reminded him of an old kids’ book his mom used to read out loud at bedtime. One of the stories had the animal characters going around and around a bush, following tracks in the snow and thinking they were tracking some kind of ferocious beast. But all along, it was their own footsteps. He suspected he was doing the same thing.
Intuition said his room lay behind him and somewhat to his right. Since he clearly was making no headway in the enchanted forest, maybe it was time to return to the normal world.
If he could.
Leaving the strips of shirt tied to the trees, he headed in the direction he hoped was out. In a surprisingly short time, he glimpsed the blue walls and gaming posters of his bedroom. Relief bubbled through him.
When he stepped onto his messy carpet, Emmie jumped up from his bed and gave him a hug. “You made it out!”
He squeezed her shoulders, then turned to look back into the forest.
“I ended up going around in circles. I think.”
“What happened to your shirt?” She eyed the ripped hem.
“I needed the cloth to mark my direction.”
He bent and snagged another shirt from the floor, a plain blue T with a hole in the side.
“Hold this,” he said, handing it to her. “Stretch it out so I can cut off the bottom.”
“I really don’t think this is a good look for you,” she said. “Are you planning to mutilate all your clothing?”
“I want you to go in with me.” He set down the knife, then took the now-ruined shirt from her and started tearing it into strips.
“Are you sure?” She cast a wary glance into the woods.
“I have a theory, and if I’m right we’ll be perfectly safe. Go into the forest and head left, tying these around the branches every few feet.” He handed her the pieces of blue cloth. “I’ll go to the right.”
“You honestly think we’ll meet in the middle? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Neither does having an enchanted forest in my bedroom, Em. The normal rules don’t apply here, obviously.”
“You don’t have to be all superior about it.” She made a face at him, but took the strips of T-shirt.
“If you get in trouble, yell,” he said.
“Likewise. Ready?”
He nodded, and together they marched into the silver-shadowed woods. After a few steps he turned right, and Emmie headed the opposite direction. The peace of the forest settled over him, the dappled sun warm on his shoulders, the green scent of growing things rich in his nose.
“Can you hear me?” he called.
“Yep.” Emmie didn’t sound very far away.
“Okay, keep going.”
Another minute or so, and Nyx glimpsed a scrap of red cloth ahead. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight. Not only did it prove his suspicions correct, it showed he could bring things into the woods and they’d stay there. At least for a little while.
“Marco,” he yelled.
“Polo,” came the reply. His sister sounded even closer than before.
Up ahead something was moving, white and blue flashes between the pale tree trunks. He leaned forward, balancing on the balls of his feet, but wasn’t too worried.
After a moment, he was sure. It was Emmie, moving through the trees.
She paused to tie a strip of cloth onto a nearby branch and he silently circled around, keeping a clump of bushes between them. When she turned to go, he leaped out.
“Boo!” he cried.
“Eee!” Emmie jumped back, her hand going to her chest. Then she glared at him. “Damn, Nyx. Give a girl a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Just checking your reflexes.”
“You suck.” She glanced around. “Were you following me this whole time?”
“No,” he said. “Even though this looks like a forest, it seems to be just a sphere, and we’re inside it. If that makes sense.”
“Weird.” She shook her head. “So what happens if we try to walk deeper in?”
“We go nowhere, I think.”
“Then I’ll see you in nowhere.” She pointed at him. “And if you jump out at me again, I swear I’ll put snails in your bed. Every night.”
“Lucky me. Which direction do you want to go?”
She tilted her head, studying the slanting light falling through the
trees, then nodded to her right. “That way.”
“I’ll stay here, then. Just for fun.”
Nyx kept an eye on her as she went, the white of her shirt flickering between the tree trunks. It seemed like she was heading further into the forest. After a minute, he lost sight of her.
“Aha,” she called. “I found a red cloth.”
“Do you think you can find your way back out?”
“Pretty sure.”
“I’ll wait here, just in case. Yell when you’re back in my room.”
He didn’t glimpse her again, but a short time later she called out.
“Made it!”
“Be right there.” Nyx cast a last glance around the forest.
It was a weird, tricky place, but it was finite. He’d do a few more tests to make sure, but it was a relief to know that nobody could get lost and disappear forever into whatever magical world he’d conjured up.
During the following weeks he’d tried his hardest to lose his way in the forest, and even attempted it with the meadow, spinning himself around in the high grasses until he was dizzy. Every time he ended up walking around in circles a bunch, then wandering back into his room.
In fact, since that second time he’d conjured up the woods, he hadn’t seen the golden mouse creature again. Maybe it had gotten smart and decided it didn’t like being trapped inside a magical loop.
After thinking about it, Nyx had decided the landscapes were reflections—seemingly real, but only mirror images of the places inside the game of Feyland. Except that the trees felt solid enough to lean up against, and the moss was soft underfoot.
So, not reflections, but more like bubble worlds—little self-contained simulations.
How is it even possible? The question pricked at his mind.
He spent hours searching the ’net, looking for hints that he wasn’t the only one who’d discovered this strange connection with Feyland. Nothing. Another several days was wasted researching VirtuMax, but they didn’t seem to be planning any game theme parks, and there were no pictures or vids of the kinds of bubble worlds he’d experienced.
