Feyland: The Dark Realm

  That was it; the green cloak. Oh god, she’d nearly lost before she’d even begun. She drew in a ragged breath, trying to imagine it in perfect detail. Long green cloak. With a hood.

  “A mantle green.” She whispered the words.

  It appeared, lying soft and heavy in her arms. She pulled it on, awkwardly, since she was kneeling on the ground, and tied it around her neck. Now she was ready. Barely.

  The Dark Court slowed as they reached the crossroads. From her hiding place, she scanned the ranks of creatures. The very front of the company was led by a row of figures in pale armor, lances prickling up, faces covered by their helms. Behind them cavorted redcap goblins, their faces grotesque, their teeth glinting and sharp.

  Other creatures, half-animal in form, trailed them. Was that walking clump of brown hair Fynnod? Before she could tell, a faerie with the head of a bird and feathery wings blocked her view. A delicate bevy of maidens followed, their hair like spun moonlight, silver bells edging their gossamer robes.

  And behind them… she shivered. The Black Knight riding his black charger, forbidding in his midnight armor. Then came the Dark Queen, beautiful as an eclipse, on a chestnut mare. Jennet’s mouth went dry and she shrank down behind her bush, which suddenly felt far too small to conceal her. The black horse, and the brown. Where was the white horse?

  The company halted and the queen spoke. Her voice was the edge of twilight, full of mystery and dark promise.

  “My court, long have we waited. Long have we languished while our strength waned, deprived of the essence that sustains us. But on this eve we renew the land. On this eve we reclaim our ancient birthright. On this eve we open a gateway to the mortal realm!”

  A clamor of fey and feral voices greeted her words. The queen raised one hand, and the noise subsided.

  “Honor our sacrifice,” she said, “for he is a brave knight, and true. And now, we shall pay the tiend. Onward - the stones await!”

  The faeries surged forward, and Jennet bolted to her feet. Fear sliced through her, sharp and unstoppable. Where was Tam?

  The Black Knight thundered past. Next came the queen, her gaze fixed on the stones ahead, her face lit with unearthly beauty. Finally, finally, a white horse. The rider was garbed in gold and crimson glory, an ornate mask covering his face. It had to be Tam. Had to be. Jennet flung herself forward.

  The horse was tall, but she was desperate. She managed to get her arms around Tam’s waist, even though he didn’t stop. Her shoulders burned as she was dragged forward. There was no traction, no way to pull him down.

  “Tam!” she yelled. “Get off the horse! Tam, do you hear me?”

  He didn’t even glance at her - it was like she didn’t exist. Jennet swallowed the desperate sob building in her throat. She couldn’t hold on much longer.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure overtaking them. Some fey creature, ready to strike her down. Fingers numb, she ignored it and kept holding onto Tam. The figure drew up on the other side of the white horse.

  “Get ready,” a voice called, and Jennet jerked her gaze up to see an achingly familiar face. Thomas. Here to help.

  She nodded, and Thomas set his hands to Tam’s unresponsive shoulder. He gave a shove. Tam teetered a moment in the saddle then, finally, fell. Jennet’s arms were locked around his waist as together they tumbled backward to land in a bone-jarring tangle on the ground. Her side burned and she couldn’t grab a breath. The mask slid off to reveal Tam’s face, his eyes wide and confused.

  “Tam!” Air whooshed into her lungs. She leaned forward and kissed him, a quick, relieved press of her lips to his. They would get through this. “Can you stand up?”

  It would be easier to hold on to him that way. Her right arm was twisted uncomfortably underneath his waist, but she didn’t want to tug it free. Hold on - no matter what. Hold on.

  “Jennet?” Tam shook his head, sending a swatch of brown hair across one eye. He sat up, and she shifted her grip, both hands tight around his arm. “I—”

  A blast of thunder shook the sky, the sound so deep Jennet felt more than heard it. Her whole body vibrated, and she nearly lost her grasp on Tam again. The air brightened, as though the sun had leaped into the sky. She looked up, then wished she hadn’t. The night sky was now a tattered cloth, the stars blazing white-hot behind the scrim of dark, shedding an eerie, furious glow.

  Around them, the fey-folk were crying out and covering their heads. The orderly procession was now a panicked jumble, the sound of bells clashing and discordant.

  “HALT!” The queen’s command filled the air, like an echo of thunder.

  Silence followed - an awful, frozen silence. The only movement was the Dark Queen, her face filled with a terrifying wrath as she rode to where Jennet knelt beside Tam.

  “Brave knight,” she said, turning the force of her midnight beauty on Tam. “Rise, and mount again. The circle lies but nine paces on, and you shall be safe therein.”

  Jennet bit her lip, hard. If Tam wanted to pull free, she didn’t know if she could fight him. “Tam,” she breathed.

  He gave no sign that he’d heard her.

  The queen’s face softened and she held out one delicate hand. “Come.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m safe right here.”

  Jennet swayed with relief. Then she saw the queen’s expression and stiffened again. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Of course not. There were all the transformations to get through. She tightened her hands around Tam’s arm.

  “No?” The queen’s voice was a killing frost. “If you will not take leave of this mortal, then I shall make her take leave of you.” She raised an arm and cast her voice over the eldritch crowd. “The final price then they will pay, ‘ere I cry Tamlin’s away!”

  Whatever that meant. Jennet looked at Tam, about to urge him to get up again, but the words stilled in her throat. He was changing, his features flattening out grotesquely, his limbs disappearing… she couldn’t hold his arm anymore because he had no arm.

  The icy laughter of the Dark Queen cut through her panic. Jennet reached forward and grabbed what Tam was turning into. Scales slid under her palms, but she hugged him tight against her. The smell of something dry and ancient assaulted her nose. The body pressed against hers was one long rope of writhing muscle.

  Snake! the primitive part of her brain shrieked, but she made herself hold on. Even when a sibilant hiss made her look up, right into a fanged mouth. Even when she felt the coiled tension that signaled it was about to strike.

  A single whimper crawled out of her throat.

  Hold on. No matter what.

  The scales under her hand roughened, turned to fur. Another smell, rank and greasy, assaulted her senses. Tam had regained limbs, but they ended in wicked-looking yellow claws. Instead of fangs, she was confronted with a bear’s mouth, full of rending teeth.

  Oh god. Hold on. It was Tam, under all that coarse black hair. He wouldn’t bite her. Please, don’t let him bite her.

  The bear opened its mouth wider. She threaded her fingers into the fur and squeezed her eyes closed. The roar, when it came, shook through her. Midway through it changed from a bear’s bellowing to the threatening growl of a great cat.

  She forced her eyes open, and met the feral gaze of a lion. Run! the mouse inside her squeaked. Death and ruin in those yellow eyes.

  Don’t let go.

  From a distance, she heard the Dark Queen’s voice, raised in wild chanting. The huge, furry body in her arms began to shrink and darken. It grew heavy and cool, one moment a live thing, the next inert metal in her hands. She looked down and blinked. A bar of iron lay in her palms.

  They were almost done.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The iron bar began to glow. A sullen red at first, it started to give off heat, like a just turned-on stove. Jennet’s palms tingled, then stung, but she didn’t dare shift the bar from hand to hand. She couldn’t risk dropping it.

  The metal got brighter, and wit
h it the heat. She gritted her teeth and held on, despite the scorching in her hands. Despite the pain, the blisters forming on her skin. Her breath came in little pants, dry and shallow. Hold on.

  The bar flared crimson. Too. Hot. Each breath carried a sob with it now, a high, keening noise she barely recognized as coming from her. She couldn’t… hold on. Dammit. Hold on.

  It was like clutching a piece of the sun. So bright she couldn’t look at it, a pulsing gold-red that seared itself against her eyes. She couldn’t take her hands away - it felt as though the molten metal had fused itself to her body.

  Agony burned into her bones. Her throat hurt, and it took a moment for her to realize it was because she was screaming. There was nothing left. Only pain.

  And then it was over.

  She bent, dry-heaving, tasting nothing but sour bile. She couldn’t feel her hands.

  “Jennet?” It was Tam’s voice, shaky and close. “Hey, Jen. Look at me. Right here.”

  She straightened, met his worried green eyes. All traces of his elaborate costume were gone. He knelt before her, naked.

  “The cloak,” she gasped, fumbling at the ties. “We have to cover you.” Her fingers weren’t working - there was something wet and slick getting in her way.

  Tam reached out and helped loosen the cloak, and together they spread it over him. When she drew the hood over his face, her hands left dark blotches on the cloth. Blood.

  The Dark Queen swept up to them. Her eyes held hurricanes.

  “Ill met, Fair Jennet,” she said, her voice cold with rage. “You have stolen the fairest knight in all my company.”

  Jennet scraped in a breath. “You stole him first. I just took him back.”

  She had, hadn’t she? A tremble started, low in the pit of her stomach, the first unbelieving stirrings of triumph. They had won.

  “Brave Tamlin.” The queen turned to Tam, her voice changing to smoke and sorrow. “If I had seen what would pass this night, I would not have stayed my hand. Your mortal heart betrayed us. Better by far if I had taken it and given you one of stone.”

  “I’d rather be mortal,” Tam said, “than sacrificed so the faeries could rampage through the human realm. You lost.”

  The air grew chill. Frost sparkled in the Dark Queen’s hair. “The gateway remains closed, ‘tis true. For now.”

  “Forever,” Jennet said.

  God, she hoped so. She couldn’t go through this again. Her hands felt like lumps of wood attached to her wrists. If she looked at them, she knew she’d be sick.

  The queen lifted her fingers and traced a silvery symbol in the air. “Begone from here, mortals. Be gone!”

  The eerie starlight brightened to gold, and a wind began to whirl about Jennet and Tam. The edges of the cloak he was wearing lifted and spun.

  “Wait!” Jennet reached for him. “Tam—”

  Too late. Her words were lost in a flare of swirling light as she was hurtled back into her own world.

  She fell into the sim chair with a whimper. Somehow her helmet and gloves had come off - and the chair next to her was empty. Where was Tam?

  The door to the game room banged open.

  “Jennet!” her dad yelled, running to the chair and thumbing off the jammer. “What the hell are you doing? I told you the system was dangerous and - oh my god.” He was staring at her hands. “What happened to you? HANA! Call George - and get me an emergency kit, right away.”

  “Of course. Here you are, sir.” A cupboard door popped open from the wall. Dad pulled a medi-pack out and ripped it open.

  “Jennet, your hands…”

  Finally, she looked down. Bile rose in her throat, and she wished she hadn’t. Her hands looked like raw meat. The skin was gone, and blood oozed to the surface. They had hurt before, but seeing the damage made the pain blaze up. Hot tears pricked her eyes.

  “Sorry, Dad,” she whispered, then tried not to cry out as he laid plas-skin bandages over her palms. “I had to save Tam.”

  Face set, Dad just shook his head. “I’m taking you to the ER.”

  “Central Hospital?” She had to find out if Tam was ok. What had happened to him when the Dark Queen flung them back into the mortal world?

  She was probably grounded for life. But as long as Tam was all right, she didn’t care.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  “We have to ask about Tam, Dad.” Jennet kept her voice low, though it didn’t seem like anyone else in the ER waiting room was remotely interested. The pain in her hands was a distant, fuzzy thing, numbed by the plas-skin Dad had slathered on and the pills he’d made her swallow.

  “Not until we get your hands looked at.”

  She knew better than to push it, though hope and worry knocked through her with every breath. At least she was in the same hospital as Tam.

  It didn’t take long for the med techs to get to her. They peeled off the plas-skin, making worried, interested noises.

  “How’d this happen?” one of the techs asked.

  “I, um, touched something hot.” She couldn’t meet Dad’s eyes. It was true, just not in any way he could understand.

  “More than touched it, I’d say.” The tech shook his head. “Luckily, it looks like you got the plas-skin on in time to stop any permanent nerve damage. You’re not going to be able to use your hands for a while, though.”

  “Ok.” As long as Tam was all right, it was worth it. Was he all right? The question pushed through her, insistent as her own heartbeat.

  Finally, they were done. Her hands were numbed and re-wrapped, and Dad finished signing the last of the forms, and then tucked his tablet away. In response to her pleading glance, he gave her a weary nod.

  “We’ll ask at the main desk,” he said. “The techs here have enough to do without checking on a patient already admitted.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice trembled.

  The windows in the main corridors showed a pale sky. Dawn. All Hallow’s Eve was over.

  The woman at the main desk looked up Tam’s record. “I don’t see any change,” she said. “Visiting hours start at seven, if you’d like to go up then.”

  Jennet peeked at the desk display. “That’s only ten minutes from now. Please, could we go up early? He’s a good friend.” She lifted her bandaged hands and set them carefully on the counter. Playing the sympathy card.

  “We’re here now, after all,” Dad said.

  “Well…” The woman shook her head, but she was smiling. “Okay. But don’t tell them I sent you.”

  “Thanks so much.” Jennet hurried to the bank of elevators and pushed the button with her elbow. It was strange to have no working hands.

  As the elevator doors closed behind them, Dad cleared his throat. “Jen. I know you think that the game has something to do with Tam’s condition. And I know you think you were able to change it. But you should be prepared for the fact that he’s still in a coma.”

  “I know.” Worry shivered across the back of her neck. But no matter what the receptionist had said, something had to have changed.

  They got off on the fourth floor. Nobody was at the nurse’s station. Ignoring Dad’s cautionary look, Jennet marched down the hall to Tam’s room and peeked in the half-open door.

  Three med-techs crowded around Tam’s bed. His mom was there, too, and his little brother. She slipped inside, holding her breath until she could catch a glimpse of him.

  Tam. He was awake, hair falling across his face, green eyes open as he nodded at something a med-tech had said. Her heart opened like the sun breaking free.

  Tam’s little brother looked up, and caught sight of her. He gave her a big smile. “Hey, Jennet! Tam waked up.”

  Tears itched the back of her eyes. “Yes.”

  She stepped forward, and one of the techs made room for her at the side of the bed. Behind her, she felt Dad’s solid presence. He put a hand on her shoulder, apology and forgiveness in that touch.

  “Jennet,” Tam said.

  Just her name, but
it was enough. Their gazes locked. He was pale, and his eyes held shadows. Shadows she knew lurked in her own - memories of Feyland and their battles against the Dark Queen.

  “Hi.” She wanted to touch him, but her hands were unwieldy lumps of gauze.

  He reached for her, instead, and set one hand on her wrist, just above the bandages. His fingers were warm and alive, and her skin tingled at the touch.

  They had won.

  # # #

  That night, Jennet dreamed she was in Feyland. She stood in a meadow of pale flowers. Above her the sky was pink with approaching dawn, and the air tasted of magic and possibility. There was a peaceful hush on the land, as though at any moment birds would break into full-throated song.

  “Jennet?”

  She turned to find Tam standing beside her. The light breeze ruffled his hair and pulled at his T-shirt. It was strange to see him without his armor. He smiled at her, something tentative and tender in his eyes.

  “Hi,” she said.

  A thousand other words danced on her tongue, things like thanks and sacrifice, fear and joy, hope and longing. Love. She didn’t know where to begin.

  “Are you ok?” he asked. “I mean… it was a little confusing there for a while.”

  “I’m all right. But how could you sacrifice yourself like that, Tam? I nearly lost you.”

  Her heart clenched at the memory. She wanted to shake him. She wanted to throw her arms tight around him and never let go.

  “I had to.” His eyes held hers, their expression unguarded. “Trading myself for you was the only way. But I’m glad you figured out how to free me.”

  “Me, too.” She had to look away from him, or she’d start crying. “Puck helped, though. And Thomas.”

  “Thomas. Do you think we’ll ever see him again?”

  “At least once.” The quiet answer came from behind them.

  Jennet whirled, to see the bard. The first sunlight lay on his cheek and glinted in his wise and weary eyes.

  “Thomas!” She hugged him, hard. “I was so afraid…but your book of ballads had the answer, and then you helped…” The tears she’d tried to hide from Tam tipped over onto her cheeks.

  “Hush.” Thomas stroked her hair. “Your battle with the Dark Queen is over now. The gate remains closed. You and your champion both sacrificed much, but you have won.”