by Anthea Sharp
SPARK
FEYGUARD Book 1
ANTHEA SHARP
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real events or persons is purely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition Copyright 2013 Anthea Sharp. All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away. Support independent authors - read legally. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, other than for review purposes, contact [email protected]. Print copies available at most vendors. Visit the author at www.antheasharp.com and sign up for notifications of new releases at http://www.tinyletter.com/AntheaSharp
COVER: Design – Ravven http://www.ravven.com/
QUALITY CONTROL: This work has been professionally edited by Editing720. If you encounter any typos or formatting problems, please contact [email protected] so they may be corrected.
SPARK
What if a high-tech game was a gateway to the treacherous Realm of Faerie?
Superstar gamer Spark Jaxley's life might look easy, but she's part of an elite few who guard a shocking secret; the Realm of Faerie exists, and its dark magic is desperate for a foothold in the mortal world.
Aran Cole hacks code and sells his gaming cheats on the black market. It's barely a living, and one he's not proud of. But when he turns his skills to unlocking the secrets behind Feyland—the most exciting and immersive game on the market—he discovers power and magic beyond his wildest dreams.
Spark's mission is clear; pull Aran from the clutches of the fey folk and restore the balance between the worlds. But can she risk her life for someone who refuses to be rescued?
PROLOGUE
The Dark Queen of the Realm of Faerie paced over the moon-dappled mosses before her tangled throne. Her skirts flared out into gossamer shadows, and diamonds sparkled in her black hair like tiny, cold stars, capturing the light of the sickle moon high overhead. Every step she took snapped with frustration, and the creatures of her court flinched as the reverberations of their queen’s anger echoed through the realm.
Even the powerful horned hunter and his red-eyed hounds stayed at the far edges of the clearing, the star-tarnished oaks at their backs. The court musicians stood in a huddled trio, fingers quiet upon their instruments. Only the fearful whispers of the denizens of the Dark Court sawed the edge off the silence.
The queen halted, the still before the storm, and the last whispers died. From the darkened pathway a figure made of shadows came; a knight bearing an enormous blade. He strode past the violet bonfire, the flames licking eerie reflections on his black armor; past the feral and nameless creatures of the court, past the hollow-eyed banshee, and the sharp-toothed goblins with their caps of blood.
“My lady.” He went down on one knee and bowed his black-helmed head in supplication.
“What have you found?” Her voice was shaded with secrets.
“It is as you guessed. The opening between the mortal world and our own remains but a thin crack. Nothing has changed since that gateway was closed through deceitful mortal and fey means.”
“Curse the Elder Fey!” She clenched her fists, and frost striated the velvet-deep mosses beneath her feet. “We are no more than beggars for the scraps of dreams, where once we were feared across every human land. There must be a way to enter the human world freely, and harvest the essence of our power.”
“If there is, we will not discover that means in the realm, my lady.”
The queen’s eyes narrowed. “Then we must find someone who can. Surely there is one among the mortals who would bend to the needs of the realm.”
She whirled, and the fey folk cowered from the sharpness of her smile.
“Scouts, keep watch on the faerie ring. Soon enough, a human will stumble into the Dark Realm—and when they do, we will be ready. This time, there will be no escape.”
CHAPTER ONE
Spark Jaxley waited outside her temporary mansion, the fog of her breath matching the cold clouds overhead. A gleaming limousine grav-car hovered by the curb with her luggage packed inside, and her security guards were deployed strategically around the manicured lawn—far enough away to give her the illusion of space, but ready to spring into action if needed.
Not that she had anything to be worried about in the controlled compound of The View. No clamoring autograph-seekers or paparazzi trying to get a candid shot of the most famous sim gamer in the world. No lines of cars driving slowly past, no screaming fans gathered in front of the wrought-iron gates.
There was only a single bird flitting through the landscaped shrubbery and the distant noise of the city below. Spark was glad of the solitude. This goodbye was going to be hard enough as it was.
The early spring air held a bite, the chill slipping past her scarf to touch her neck with icy fingers. Spark re-wound her scarf—magenta, to match her hair—then slid her hands into the fur-lined pockets of her jacket while she waited for her friends to arrive.
Friends—the last thing she’d expected to find when she came to Crestview. Stuck in an insignificant city for a month wasn’t her idea of a prime trip. But VirtuMax paid her plenty to be their spokesmodel, and part of the contract included beta-testing their immersive new FullD equipment and its launch game, Feyland. Which meant coming to their exclusive compound in the center of exactly nowhere.
She never thought her life would change so completely as a result.
She sighed softly, and Burt, the head of her security team, glanced her way. “Would you prefer to wait inside, Miss Jaxley?”
“No, thanks.”
She’d rather feel the weak sun on her face, breathe the fresh air. After all, she was about to be cooped up in various forms of transportation for the next seven hours. SimCon, her next destination, was half a continent away.
“Spark!”
A girl with long blond hair walked up the driveway, her arm around a tall, lean guy, their steps in perfect synch. Jennet Carter and Tam Linn. Spark tried to ignore the little spurt of envy heating her blood. Not that she wished they weren’t together; they were perfect for each other. It was just—she wanted that, too. But with her crazy life, she didn’t have the option to hook up with a guy in any meaningful way.
Besides, all the ones she met were blinded by her fame, or wanted to use it. Or weren’t quite right for her. Like the one driving up in his fancy red grav-car.
Roy Lassiter. True, they’d shared some intense experiences, but no matter how hard she tried to fall for him, she couldn’t manage it.
“Hey,” Roy said, getting out his car and giving her his super-charming smile. For once, it looked real.
Spark smiled back, wishing she knew what to say. She could tell Roy was hoping for something: a secret love note, her private number, a promise she couldn’t give. Jennet and Tam’s arrival saved her, and she turned to them, glad for the distraction of Jennet’s hug.
“I can’t believe you have to leave,” Jennet said. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?”
“VirtuMax needs me at SimCon to debut the FullD,” Spark said.
“Off to be a superstar, is it? Shake the lowly dust of Crestview off your shoes?” Roy squeezed her shoulders and was smart enough to let her go.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” Spark said.
Tam nodded. “We’ll stay in touch. After all…”
He glanced at the nearby security guard. Burt seemed out of earshot, but Tam was a careful guy. None of them wanted to broadcast the fact that they’d been deputized by magical beings to guard the mortal world. People would think they were insane. Or even worse, believe them. Faerie magic was power, and not many people could be trusted with it.
The whole thing seemed like a crazy sort of dre
am, except that seven of them had experienced the same thing. Eight if you counted Tam’s friend Marny, who had dealt with the reality of the fey folk in her own way.
“Is Zeg coming?” Spark asked.
She wanted to say goodbye to the big guy. Even though he was old enough to be her dad, he was a gamer first. Like the rest of them, he’d fought in the final battle alongside the Elder Fey to keep the Realm of Faerie from rampaging through the human world.
“Yeah.” Tam cocked his head. “I think I hear his car now.”
Zeg’s old gas-guzzler was as out of place in The View as a fly on vanilla ice cream, and he was proud of the fact. He took immense pleasure in using his official gate pass, and Spark suspected he deliberately messed with his car’s engine before he drove up to the compound, making the car smoke and rattle even more than usual.
Sure enough, the coughing clatter coming up the street was unmistakable. Roy made a face, though he didn’t say anything as Zeg’s car rounded the corner and chugged up the drive. The guzzler halted with a squeal of brakes, and Zeg hopped out, his smile beaming from behind his frizzy beard. He had a passenger, too—his niece, Marny.
“Marny!” Jennet gave her friend a hug, her slight form dwarfed by the bigger girl. Marny was solid, physically as well as emotionally.
“Good to see you two,” Spark said. “The gang’s almost all here. Jennet, is your dad coming?”
“He’s stuck at work, but sends his best wishes and an open invitation to come stay with us. You know, whenever you’re passing through on your international tours.”
They all laughed. Crestview wasn’t on the way to anywhere.
“I might, actually. Now that VirtuMax owns this town, I imagine they’ll want me back from time to time.”
“Good,” Roy said, a little too smugly. “There are other reasons to come back here, of course.”
Spark caught Jennet’s eye. Although he’d matured some, Roy Lassiter could still be a prime ego-head.
“Right,” Marny said. “And I hate to tell you this, Roy, but you’re not anywhere near the top of the list.”
Tam let out a snort, and Jennet held up one hand.
“Stop it,” she said. “Is this really how we want to say goodbye to Spark?”
“Just like old times.” A hint of a smile tugged at Tam’s mouth. “Think of all those happy in-game memories.”
“Right.” Spark rolled her eyes. “Especially the parts where we almost got killed.”
“We’ll talk, though,” Jennet said. “We all have each other’s messager numbers, right?”
“We have to.” Tam’s voice grew serious. “Feyland launches next week, which means our work is just starting. We need to be on the lookout for… you know. Freaky things.”
Jennet nodded, and Marny crossed her arms. Spark let out a low breath. Yeah, they knew. Things like fey magic seeping out of the game into the mortal world. Gamers led astray, stumbling into a realm of wonder and trouble far beyond anything they’d imagined when they entered the virtual reality of a sim game.
“I’m sure we’ll all keep watch,” Zeg said. He handed Spark a paper sack. “Here. I baked you some cookies.”
That, more than anything, made sorrow tighten her throat. Zeg’s cookies were legendary.
“Miss Jaxley,” Burt called. “We need to get you to the airport.”
Jennet, her blue eyes glinting with tears, hugged Spark again. Tam was next, then Marny, who nearly cracked her ribs. Zeg gave her a bear hug, and for a second Spark missed her dad, missed her whole family with a quick, sharp pain.
Still, she knew her family was happy for the opportunities and the life she’d chosen. Not to mention the big portion of her earnings she always sent home.
“Spark. I’ll miss you.” Roy put his arms around her, and it was too tender, too close to the real thing.
But almost wasn’t enough. Regret surged through her, bittersweet.
“Bye, Roy,” she said softly.
He bent to kiss her, and at the last second she turned her face so that his lips grazed her cheek, not her mouth.
Trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes, she stepped back and made herself smile. At the curb, Burt opened the limo door and cleared his throat.
“Stay out of trouble, team,” she said.
Then, before she made a total spectacle of herself, she ducked into the car. Burt closed the door behind her, and the tinted glass hid the tissue she used to blot her tears. Internationally famous gaming stars didn’t cry.
Much.
***
Aran Cole slid on the fake glasses with the dark frames, and turned to face his friend, Bix Chowney. The flickering fluorescent light in Bix’s old garage cast a sickly glow over everything, but Aran was fond of the place; lumpy couch, faint mildew smell, and all.
It was the closest thing he had to a home. All he needed was a place to sleep, a hotplate, and power for his sim-system. The Viper was installed in the corner, hidden under a tarp when he wasn’t gaming.
“How do I look?” he asked.
Bix tilted his head, the light giving his blond hair a greenish cast. “Boring, and respectable. That’s freaky, man. How’d you do that?”
“It’s all in the attitude. I just imagine I’m a geeklet from a nice, suburban family, and presto! No more slacker gamer.”
He’d also re-dyed his hair to its underlying black, removing the blue streak, and had changed into the one button-down shirt he owned. His other shirts were all logo tees featuring obscure bands or gamer jokes, and he needed to project a more upper-class persona. At least until he passed through SimCon’s registration.
“You making fun of me?” Bix punched his shoulder, hard enough to make it count.
“Hey—not my fault you’re all well-adjusted and middle class. But you’re not a geeklet.”
Bix wanted to be edgy, but befriending Aran was the nearest he got. Not that Aran would recommend his particular lifestyle. Even Bix didn’t know about Aran’s other existence as the prime hacker known as BlackWing. He could find the exploits in any game, slipping in between the cracks in the code. Sadly, selling game hacks on the gray market wasn’t making him rich. In fact, it was barely enough to survive on.
He needed enough cash to get his own apartment instead of couching it at Bix’s and living off high-jolt soda and packaged ramen.
Aran’s folks would feed him, grudgingly. Even though he was eighteen now, he still had a room at home. It stayed empty, though—just a place to store his stuff. That house held too much history and not enough forgiveness. Not even close. Unsaid words piled up like knives until he felt he was being sliced alive by their sharp edges.
He swigged the last of his super-caffeinated drink. The carbonation stung his throat and nose, but he needed the boost. It was way too early for him to be awake.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his bag, a brown messenger pouch he’d liberated from his older brother.
Bix followed him out of the garage, carefully locking up. Aran had an extra key, though he’d resorted to climbing through the back window a couple times to keep Bix’s parents from seeing him. He didn’t think the Chowneys would approve of Aran squatting in their old garage. Not that they ever used it, with the fancy new construction they’d built out front to house their grav-cars.
The metro stop was six blocks away. Aran hunched his shoulders against the February drizzle and let Bix babble on about how excited he was to go to SimCon. It was the first time their city had hosted the gaming convention, and the nerds and geeks were completely turbo.
“Can you believe VirtuMax is finally unveiling the FullD system?” Bix’s voice rose with enthusiasm. “It’s been years since they announced the project. I hope it’s as prime as they claim.”
“Me too.”
Despite the nonchalance he projected, Aran was excited—though not for the same reasons. He was burning to see VirtuMax unveil their long-delayed FullD system and try the immersive new game that came with it: Feyland. If he could get a
head-start on cracking the programming, he’d be set. Make enough cash to move someplace where the sun actually shone in the winter.
Maybe he’d buy one of those old-style camping vans, figure out a way to install his gaming systems, and travel around, following the warmth and the cons.
But first, he had a game to hack.
“Spark Jaxley will be at the debut.” Bix grinned. “I hope we can get close enough to touch her.”
Practically every gamer in the world was in love with the celebrity simmer—guys and girls alike. She was cute, sure, but Aran would bet that most people never realized—the way he, as a true hacker, did—that her gaming skills were flawless.
Which probably meant she was a class A diva.
“You can ask her out,” Aran said as they headed down the dingy steps of the subway station. “Guy like you, how could she refuse?”
“Shut it,” Bix said. “At least we’ll get to see her play.”
In the stink and whoosh of the tunnels, Bix passed his wrist, with its embedded chip, over the gate scanner. Aran dumped a handful of grubby coins into the machine. If Bix weren’t with him, he would have jumped the gate, but he was playing it straight today. No thrill of eluding the security guys and dashing onto the train at the last second.
It was a quiet ride down to the convention center, though the train filled the closer they got. Half the passengers were dressed for a day at the office. The rest were obviously on their way to SimCon, flaunting their gamer garb and inner freaks. Aran concentrated on relaxing, sinking deeper into his character of regular-gamer-geek.
“Do you think the plan will work?” Bix asked as the train pulled into the downtown station.
“Of course.” Aran hoped.
