by Anthea Sharp
Mom and Dad were also a little confused by her success. When she’d won the national sim-tournament at age fifteen, they’d helped her raise the money to get to the international competition. Once there, she’d scorched her opponents and secured the VirtuMax sponsorship. It had taken some work to bring her parents around, but the salary the company offered, plus the promise of private tutoring to keep her academics up, was ultimately something they couldn’t refuse.
She hadn’t known then how unglamorous parts of her new life would be, but when her contract came up for renewal, she’d talked her parents into agreeing to one more term. They needed the money. University wasn’t cheap, even at the local schools, and Spark was determined that all three kids in her family—herself included—would get the chances her parents never had. Chances none of them would’ve had, except for her gaming skills.
The bus slowed, the plas-metal and concrete building of the gaming center coming into view. Spark glanced at the long line snaking around the corner. A bunch of national vid crews were there, too, judging from the number of satellite-topped vans parked beside the gaming center. SimCon might have been the first demo, but this event had obviously been built up as something splashy.
“I’m going to change,” she said, as soon as the bus stopped.
The back part of the vehicle was a deluxe bathroom, complete with a closet and changing room. Spark pulled out her teal-blue costume, then froze in disbelief. A long rip gaped in the fabric in back, running from the plastic shoulder-guards down to the built-in belt.
Damn it! She should have been paying better attention to the Terabins’ movements—but she hadn’t thought far enough ahead. Of course they’d try to sabotage her. Clearly their new tactic was to discredit her, make it seem as though she didn’t take her position seriously.
The problem was, the twins were right. Being VirtuMax’s sim star wasn’t that important, not compared to her new job as a guardian of the border between human and fey worlds. But that was hardly something she could explain.
Even though being a Feyguard was huge, so far she was still clueless about what it entailed. Whereas her job as Spark Jaxley, helping launch the FullD system, was immediate and pressing.
And she had nothing to wear. She rifled through the rest of her clothing, but her other two Spark suits were also damaged beyond use. One had a big purple stain on it, and the other one’s chest plate was scraped up. Boy, the twins didn’t mess around, but they’d done it in a way that wasn’t obvious. Her word against theirs, and with the mood Mr. Chon had been in, she didn’t like her chances
Spark held up her ruined blue costume. She had to figure out how to salvage this.
“Vonda?” she called, sticking her head out of the bathroom.
The Terabins noticed, and Cora let out a snicker. Spark ignored them.
“Yeah?” Vonda came over. “What’s going on?”
“Wardrobe malfunction.” Spark kept her voice low. “Could you get me some duct tape?”
“Got a roll in my bag. One sec.”
Vonda did a good job of getting the silver duct tape out of her bag and tucking it under her shirt. The twins scowled, but they couldn’t quite see what was happening.
“Here.” Vonda handed her the roll. “Anything else?”
“I got it, for now. If you can get some other gaming costumes together for me, though, that would be good.”
Spark shut the door on her manager’s concerned expression and set to work. She taped up the rip in the back of the teal suit, then wriggled into it. The fabric pulled oddly, and she made a few more adjustments to the back. It wasn’t pretty, nor comfortable, but she could deal with that.
One of her other costumes had a short cloak. It was lemon-yellow—not the smoothest color combo with teal—but it would cover up the mess on her back. Spark slung it on, then grabbed the yellow belt, too.
Adequately dressed, she rummaged through her make-up. At least her cosmetics were untouched, though from now on she was locking everything up. She’d have to ask Vonda for some secure containers.
Spark did her usual stage makeup, then added a few swipes of bright color to her eyelids; yellow and teal, to try and pull her look together. It wasn’t a perfect success, but at least she wouldn’t be showing up on the national gaming news in a T-shirt. Which had clearly been the Terabin’s aim.
Her mangled yellow suit was decorated with shiny crystals at the neck. Spark pried a few off and glued them down one cheek. Might as well go for the full-on treatment.
Vonda rapped at the bathroom door. “Ready?”
“As ready as I can be.” Spark stepped out. “Don’t say anything.”
She glanced up the length of the bus, glad to see the twins had already gone. They’d make cutting remarks when they saw her. Not too many, though, not in public.
“Right.” Vonda blinked at her, then turned back to the door. “I’ll just lock this.”
When Spark exited the bus, the crowd cheered. Vid cams slewed around to get footage of her. Holding her chin high, she waved and smiled, then let Vonda lead her to the employee’s entrance. She hoped none of the duct tape showed from behind.
Burt waited just outside the door, ready to bounce anybody that tried to sneak in. He nodded at her and didn’t seem to notice she was oddly dressed. Of course, the gamer costumes were varying degrees of strange and flashy. She could pull this off, as long as she acted confident. The trick was not to let the twins rattle her.
Burt pulled open the door, and she and Vonda stepped into a drab room holding a couple couches, a table with a coffeemaker, and a hand-lettered sign that said “Welcome, VirtuMax gamers!”
The Terabins looked up from where they sat on one of the gray couches, paper cups of coffee in their hands. Roc laughed. A second later Cora did, too, but the look on her face wasn’t amusement. That, more than anything, let Spark know her suit mash-up actually worked. The knowledge warmed her. So much for their little plan.
“Sparky!”
A boy dressed in bright orange and red sprang up to wrap his wiry arms around her middle.
“Niteesh.” She returned his hug. “Good to see you. And you’re the only one allowed to call me that, remember?”
He grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling in his brown face, and stepped back. “Oh, sure. How was SimCon?”
“Good.” For a second, Aran’s face hovered in her mind. “Nothing extra-prime, though. Glad you’re joining the tour.”
“I’d have come to the con, too, except for the underage work laws.” Niteesh snorted. “Man, they should see how the kids work in India.”
“You’re in the civilized world, now,” Cora said. “I know it’s hard. Get used to it.”
Niteesh ignored the comment, like the smart kid he was.
“What do you think of Feyland?” Spark asked him.
“Good.” Niteesh gave a single, sharp nod. “A little predictable, but what can you do?”
Spark let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The Feyland that connected to the Realm of Faerie was highly unpredictable, which meant that, so far, Niteesh was safe.
“Maybe you should get into game design.” She smiled at him.
It wouldn’t surprise her if at some point he invented a radically new game concept. One of the things that made Niteesh a top simmer—in addition to light-speed reflexes—was his ability to come up with weirdly creative approaches to in-game problems.
“Doors are opening,” Vonda announced. “You all ready?”
Roc and Cora got up from the couch, and Niteesh nodded, his curly black hair bouncing. As the four gamers entered the main room of the gaming center, the crowd applauded and yelled. Lights rigged for the event strobed wildly, overpowering the daylight filtering through the tinted glass windows.
Spark followed Niteesh to where the FullD systems stood. Four of them were arranged behind velvet ropes, each one hooked to the overhead monitor display.
“Our special guests need no introduction,”
the game center manager announced with a bleached-bright smile.
He then proceeded to introduce them, and Niteesh rolled his eyes at Spark. After a rambling introduction, followed by an explanation of how customers should pick up their pre-ordered FullD systems, the manager waved his hand.
“Let’s get to the fun!” he cried.
Vonda nodded confirmation, and the VirtuMax gamers pulled on helmets and gloves, then slipped into their sim chairs. Spark’s was the same system she’d played on at SimCon—polished up and custom-painted to match her hair. Niteesh had flames scribed on the side of his, and Roc and Cora’s setups were blue-black, decorated with white bursts of light.
Spark gave the command to enter game, and the outside world disappeared. She stood in the usual clearing surrounded by tall trees. The moss felt soft as a plush carpet beneath her feet, and a faerie ring enclosed her; the mushrooms a mix of pale, moon-colored ones and bright red ones spotted with white. She let herself relax into the chair a little more. The faerie ring was usually the first indicator that things were getting tweaked. So far, so normal.
The other avatars materialized around her. She wasn’t surprised to see Roc geared up as an Assassin, and Cora in the robes of a Spellcaster. Niteesh wore full Warrior armor, and carried a huge sword that was probably bigger than he was in real life.
He’d told her he always liked to play big, bulky characters. Not to make up for being small, but for the surprise factor against other gamers. His trick, though, was that he stacked nimbleness and agility on his avatar profiles whenever possible, so he still moved fast despite playing heavily armored classes.
“Make room,” Roc said. “I think it’s time to demonstrate the PVP abilities in here.”
Of course the Terabins would go directly to player-versus-player combat. Spark should have anticipated it.
“I challenge you, warrior boy.” Cora pointed her mage staff at Niteesh.
“Accepted,” he said, bringing up his shield just in time to deflect a blast of arcane light.
“Well?” Roc said. “Think your fox-girl has what it takes?”
Before she even spoke the words to accept the challenge, Roc vanished. No doubt he was sneaking behind her, trying to go for a killing blow.
She threw herself flat, then rolled. A blade swished harmlessly through the air where she’d just been, and Roc re-appeared, scowling. She flung her boot dagger at him, but his reflexes were too good and he slid out of the way, the blade missing.
It was going to be a good fight, and she grinned at the challenge. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a fireball fly across the clearing. Niteesh’s sword flashed and Cora muttered a curse. Spark hoped Vonda was taking notes; VirtuMax gamers weren’t supposed to swear while playing in public, no matter how hot things got.
Jet, however, was always in control, which made Spark’s job harder. She wouldn’t be able to goad him into making a stupid move out of anger.
“So, you want to play with knives?” Two wickedly sharp blades appeared in his hands.
He spun into a blur of motion, and Spark backed up. Although her Kitsune wasn’t best equipped for hand-to-hand, she had a few tricks. She called up the power of air, conjuring a solid wall that stopped Roc in his tracks. In the second it took him to regroup, she dropped the air wall and sent a spear of fire at him.
Roc hissed in surprise and brought his knives up in a classic block, deflecting the burning tip. It nicked his upper arm and the air flashed yellow, signaling he’d taken a hit.
Not enough of one to count as victory, though. The elements weren’t easy to manipulate, and her attack had taken all her magical strength for the moment. She danced back, grabbed her bow, and nocked an arrow. Roc had gone invisible again. Not good.
The whisper of cloth behind her was her only warning. She dodged to the side, but Roc had anticipated her move. His blade slid around to hover across her throat, a kiss of cold metal waiting to bite.
“Surrender?” he asked.
Realization flashed through her. Roc didn’t want to just win this, he wanted to humiliate her in front of the audience. He thought he had her defeated. Too bad for him.
“Never,” she said.
An instant later, she was a fox, her perspective flattened and low, washed of color. She dug her four paws into the ground and dashed between Cora and Niteesh, narrowly avoiding being scorched by an arcane bolt. In another heartbeat, she whirled and returned to her human form—still carrying her bow.
Roc rounded the other fighters, but she’d gained precious time and distance. Spark let her arrow fly, fast and true. It struck Roc in the chest, and he fell to his knees. Her visor screen lit up with a green flash. Victory!
“Bah.” Roc stood and brushed off his black leather vest, though the arrow had disappeared the moment it hit. Unlike actual combat, the loser of a duel didn’t die, just had their character frozen for a few seconds.
“Winner!” Niteesh called out, a note of glee in his voice.
Spark glanced over to see him sheathing his sword, while Cora scowled.
“You got a lucky hit in,” she said. “Next time, you’re dust.”
“Oh, sure.” Niteesh laughed. “Come on, guys. We have a game to show off.”
“Please do.” Vonda’s voice sounded over their headsets. “Although folks appreciated the PVP demonstration.”
Without waiting for the rest of them, Roc jumped over the mushroom boundary and headed down the path winding between the white-trunked trees. Spark took a step forward, wanting to keep him in sight. A strange buzzing sound filled the air, and sudden static crackled through the scene. Weird.
She took another step, and Feyland rippled and wavered. Niteesh asked her something, the words garbled as though spoken underwater. And then, with a stomach-wrenching lurch, she was elsewhere.
Not the simulated world of Feyland, and not the midnight glade of the Dark Court. An eerie landscape stretched around her, a series of flat purplish plains shading into deep red at the horizon. The sky was evenly lit, a featureless silver bowl clapped down over the ground. Where was she? She turned, heartbeat pounding in her throat. Nothing moved.
“Hello?” she called. “Niteesh? Vonda?”
Silence.
Then a voice came, without sound, the meaning forming in her mind.
*Guardian of the balance. You are called.*
Oh, crap. She’d wondered how the Elder Fey would communicate with them if the Feyguard were needed. But right now—in the middle of a demo?
She desperately hoped the watching crowd couldn’t see her. If they did, there would be way too much explaining to do. She had to trust that the Elder Fey knew what they were doing.
“Called where?” The words were dry in her throat. “What am I supposed to do?”
*A mortal has entered the Dark Court. You must free him.*
Worry cracked through her. This was it—she’d been called up as a Feyguard and she had no idea what to do. Tam and Jennet were the experts on the Realm of Faerie. She’d only been there once, and the memory still woke her at night, dreams of ice and blackness that left her shivering.
“Free him—by myself? How do I get there?”
*The usual way.* The voice held dry amusement, and a hint of exasperation, like a parent speaking to a child.
Fair enough, she supposed. If being a Feyguard were easy, everyone would be doing it.
“What am I supposed to—”
*Enough. Perform your duties, and do not bestir us again from our dreaming.*
“Wait!” She stretched out her hand, though there was nothing to catch.
The purple landscape flared, then dissolved. Spark doubled over, aching as though someone had punched her in the gut. Velvet green mosses blurred in her vision.
“You okay?” Niteesh’s voice was concerned as his hand gripped her elbow.
She swallowed back nausea and straightened. No matter how wretched she felt, she could give no sign that she’d just… what? Been ripped out of reality f
or a few moments?
“I’m fine.”
She darted a look around the clearing. Cora stood outside the circle, watching them impatiently, and Spark could see Jet’s figure disappearing through the trees. Apparently only a few heartbeats had passed.
“Your avatar disappeared for a sec,” Niteesh said. “It was weird.”
“It’s nothing.” Spark shook her hair back from her face. “Let’s go.”
Niteesh tipped his head, and she strode past him, unwilling to meet his eyes. The kid was too smart. Even if nobody else suspected anything, he would. Though the truth was so tweaked as to be un-guessable.
Yeah, otherworldly creatures just pulled me into a different dimension, where they put me on the clock and gave me obscure instructions.
The rest of the demo game was a blur. She fought decently, and didn’t say much as the four VirtuMax gamers completed a quest series. Roc and Cora seemed happy to hog the spotlight, but Niteesh kept giving her worried looks.
Still, showing off her skills in a simulated game was trivial, compared to what had just happened.
She had to get to the Dark Court “the usual way,” which meant via Feyland. And clearly she couldn’t go jaunting off while in demo. Somehow she’d have to figure out a way to sneak onto the FullD. And she needed to message Jennet and Tam as soon as possible, though she had a sinking feeling they hadn’t been called up by the Elder Fey. Still, they’d have some ideas. But it basically came down to one thing.
Someone was trapped in the Realm of Faerie, and it was up to her to rescue them.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aran woke, the scent of mint and cinnamon in his nose instead of the musty smell of the Chowney’s garage. Above him, the unfamiliar, bright stars shone through the opening in the tent peak. It felt like morning, despite the night sky overhead. He stretched, the covers silky against his skin, then got out of bed.
