Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (99 page)

“What if it’s the Seelie faeries, Jennet? I bet they could help us. Anything that plays music like that has to be good.” A dreamy look moved across his face. He turned and took a step into the underbrush.

“Wait! Hold on - something’s wrong.”

She heard the music now. It whispered her name, sweet and low, promising help, promising that if she followed, everything she wanted would be hers. Jennet shook her head, sharply.

“Don’t listen, Tam.” It was hard to ignore the pull of the music - but she was hardly going anywhere, with the trees imprisoning her.

“They’re just over there,” Tam said, gesturing. “I’ll be right back, with help.”

“Tam, no… don’t go!” She tried to take a step after him, and fell to her knees as the roots held her feet immobile. The pines wrenched at her hair and she blinked back tears of pain. “Tam!”

He didn’t turn around, and now she could see the lights. Blue faerie-fire, glimmering and beckoning. The music was louder now, almost impossible to ignore. Obviously Tam had fallen under its spell. She called his name again, but he kept going without a backward glance.

She had to get free by herself - and fast.

Brute force wasn’t doing it. She looked at the roots, then hefted her staff again. She needed a different spell. What would work against plants? She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the hammering of her pulse.

Heat. A soothing warmth that would coax the plants to wilt and droop like leaves on a hot summer day. Could she summon a gentler form of her lightning? Opening her eyes, she coaxed the spell to life, making waves of heat shimmer from the crystal set at the end of her staff.

For a long minute, nothing happened. Then the roots binding her ankles eased and the painful tangling in her hair lessened. Barely breathing, she kept sending warmth at the roots, the bushes snagged in her skirts, the pine branches overhead. At last, with a creaking sigh, the plants let go.

Yes! Jennet leapt to her feet and took a few hasty steps away. The roots lay quiet on the path, the pines no longer loomed over her.

But where was Tam?

The forest was utterly still. Heart pounding, Jennet picked up her skirts and ran in the direction he’d disappeared. Surely she’d catch sight of him just ahead.

But there was no Tam. Her fear swelled into the edges of panic. Deep in the forest something glinted. A flash of light, reflected off silver armor.

Lungs burning, she forced herself to go faster. The underbrush pressed against her, thorny brambles and thick-leaved skunk-cabbage, but she was getting closer to the lights. They resolved into glowing balls bobbing through the thinning trees. The ground softened, and in moments she was slogging through the shallow water of a bog.

A bog! Oh no. Wisps. Those were the pale balls of light, not help from the Seelie faeries. Tam was following marsh wisps, and they were luring him to his doom.

She caught sight of him up ahead, striding through knee-deep water.

“Tam!” she called, her voice high with fear. “Come back!”

He didn’t give any indication at all that he’d heard her. Instead he marched on, his face turned toward the pale orbs that floated ahead. Panic gave her a spurt of energy. She splashed forward through the murky water and caught his arm.

“Stop,” she cried, almost losing her footing. “Tam, you’re following will o’ wisps.”

He still didn’t look at her, but this time he spoke. “Can you hear it? It’s the most beautiful…”

Clearly Tam was entranced. She circled in front of him and placed herself squarely in his path. Her feet were beginning to sink into the soft mud, and the water was almost up to her hips.

“You have to listen to me,” she said, putting one hand out. “Tam Linn, you have to—”

He tried to slosh around her, and then stopped, shaking his head. The soft music seemed to grow louder and the wisps bobbed around them in a semi-circle of cold light. With a jolt of panic, she saw that the water was crawling up Tam’s armor. He was sinking.

“No!” She pointed her staff at the closest wisp and shot a bolt of white flame at it.

The wisp flared, then disappeared, leaving behind the smell of rotten vegetables. Jennet tried not to breathe in the stench as she shot the next wisp, then the next. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tam was up to his chest. He was going down fast.

Calling on all her energy, she sent a wave of fire rippling from her staff. The rest of the wisps ignited, their reflections blurring the water. Then they were gone, burned away to nothing.

“Jennet?” Tam blinked, as if his eyes had been focused someplace else. “What happened?”

“Wisps.” She gripped her staff tight and let out a shaky breath. “They lure people into the bog, to drown.”

Tam grimaced. “Sorry - I shouldn’t have followed them. That was dumb.”

“You were ensorcelled. But yeah, it was.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”

“Um, we have a problem.” He didn’t move. “I’m stuck.”

“Ok, here.” She handed him her staff. “Use this for leverage. I’m going to push you from behind. Ready?” She went around him and laid her hands on the cool metal of his back. Chilly water lapped at her wrists.

“Stupid armor,” he said. “Ok, go.”

Her feet slipping, Jennet leaned and shoved and heaved, and finally, with a sucking splash, Tam stumbled forward.

“Keep going,” she said. “There’s solid ground just a little further on.”

They sloshed toward the trees, pushing past lily pads and thin reeds, until the water was below their knees. Jennet let out a long breath and shivered. They’d come too close to disaster. Another minute, and Tam would have been a victim of the bog. Would he have woken in real-life, gasping and choking? Would she have logged off to find him limp and lifeless in the sim-chair?

She shuddered, grateful to step out of the slimy water to the firmer ground of the forest. Tam was right beside her. His feet came free with a disappointed squelch, as if the bog wasn’t pleased to let him go.

“Thanks for the rescue,” he said, ducking his head.

“Yeah, well, we have to look out for each other here. You saved me last time. I figure it was my turn, right?” Her gown was clammy against her legs, and her shoes were filled with mud, but a crazy relief moved through her. “We make a good team.”

“True enough.” A smile flashed through his eyes, quickly gone. “Now what? Back into the forest?”

“I’m not sure I could find the path again. And I’m not a big fan of the trees attacking us, either.” She glanced around. The misty light made it hard to see, but to their right she thought there was some kind of a structure. “Do you see something over that way?” She gestured. “A bridge, maybe?”

He squinted. “Yeah, I think so. Let’s go check it out.”

As they got closer, the shape resolved into a stone-arched bridge. Which meant a road. Which meant that they could find a quest-giver and start progressing to the next level of the game - before it caused them permanent harm.

The bridge was tall, the road running on an embankment high above the murky bog. Deep shadows filled the spaces between the arches, and Jennet eyed the darkness. Anything could be lurking in there.

“Hm,” Tam said. “Did you ever hear that old story about the three goats trying to cross a bridge?”

“I was thinking the same thing. I bet there’s a troll - or some kind of guardian - under there.”

“Then we better give it something if we want safe passage across. What do you think - a goat?”

“I don’t think I can summon a goat. Besides, that’s just wrong.” She thought a moment, and then summoned some bread, honeycomb, and berries. Her hands overflowed with the offerings.

“Here.” Tam held out a basket. “Put them inside and rest a second. I’ll take it up to the edge of the archway.”

She placed everything in the basket, then wiped the stickiness off her hands with her damp skirt. The usual weariness from summoning twined around her, making her arms feel heavy.

“Do you think it’s going to be enough?” she asked.

“If I were a hungry troll under a bridge, this would be a feast. Throw in a pizza or two, and an army could cross over - even if everything’s banana flavored.”

“Hopefully it’s not too picky about taste.” She held her breath and watched as Tam carried the basket up to the shadowy arch.

“Hey, troll,” he said, setting their offering of food down. “We’d like safe passage over your bridge. Here’s a little something for you to eat.”

There was no response. Had they been wrong?

“Try again,” Jennet said. “Maybe it’s sleeping.”

He raised his voice and repeated the words. This time, there was movement in the dark recesses. Tam slowly backed up until he was standing beside her. He pulled his sword from his sheath with a low hiss.

A large, pasty-looking hand reached out from the shadows. It seized the basket, thick yellow fingernails curving around the handle, and drew it under the bridge. Jennet caught a glimpse of a doughy face and a mouthful of long, pointed teeth.

There was a chewing noise, and then a low sigh, like wind over stone.

“You may pass,” the creature under the bridge rasped.

“Quick,” Tam murmured, taking her arm and pulling her up to the embankment. “We don’t want it to change its mind.”

They hurried across the bridge, following the stone blocks stretching over the bog. With every step, the back of Jennet’s neck prickled. Halfway across, the bridge shivered. The troll was getting restless.

“Faster,” she whispered to Tam. “I don’t want to be dessert.” It was too easy to imagine that yellow-nailed hand reaching up and grabbing her ankles.

She and Tam sprinted the last few feet to safety as the bridge gave a final shudder. Then she looked up, and blinked in surprise.

The landscape had shifted while they traveled across the bridge, the rough-hewn stones of their path giving way to a dirt road bounded by low rock walls. The bog lay shrouded in mist behind them, while ahead, fields stitched the countryside. The setting sun was caught in the clouds.

“Sunset,” Tam said, nodding at the rays slanting red across the sky. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re not as deep in as we were.” She let out a low, shaky breath.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It depends. If we complete another quest at this level, the next ring will lead us closer to the Court. But we have to find somebody to give us one, soon.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his forearm. “So, where does this road go?”

“I’m not sure.” She glanced at the winding lane ahead. “Nothing seems familiar.”

“I guess we follow it and find out,” Tam said. “Stay close.”

“Hey! I’m not the one who wandered off into the forest.”

“We still have to stick together.” He lifted one eyebrow. “A team, remember?”

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Tam was always more relaxed in-game. It made her smile a little, inside.

It didn’t take long before the road dipped into a valley. At the bottom was a standing stone, a huge sentinel at least thirty feet high, gilded red by the setting sun. The wind lilted around them, almost a melody.

And then it
was
a melody - a sweet plucking of strings, the humming of a baritone voice.

Tam stopped. “Do you hear that? Is it more wisps?”

“It’s not wisps.” Shading her eyes with one hand, she squinted down the lane. There was a figure seated at the base of the stone, playing the guitar. Her heart gave a lurch. “Oh god. I think it’s…”

She leaned forward into a tilting run, her legs pushing hard against the earth while her pulse hammered through her. It couldn’t be. And yet, in Feyland, who could say what was possible?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“W
ait!” Tam called from behind her. “Who is it?”

As she hurtled down the road, the man set aside his guitar and rose. He opened his arms and she flew into them.

“Thomas!” Tears ran salty into her mouth. She clung to him, her father’s old friend, so familiar despite the odd clothes he wore. “I can’t believe it. You’re all right.”

“Well, now.” He gave her a final squeeze, then set her back at arm’s length. “You might want to tell your friend with the blade not to chop off my head.”

Jennet whirled to see Tam running toward them, his sword gleaming at the ready. “Tam, wait! This is a friend.” She couldn’t stop crying.

“Really. You don’t look too happy about it.” He didn’t sheathe his weapon.

She pulled her sleeve across her face, trying to dry her eyes. “Tam Linn.” Her voice still wobbled. “Let me introduce you to Thomas. Thomas Rimer.”

Tam’s expression went wary. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that the programmer - the guy you said died?”

“But he didn’t!” She turned to Thomas. “You’re here. We have to get you out of Feyland and back into the real world.”

“Jennet, stop.” Thomas’s voice was full of sorrow. “There is no return for me.”

“What? Of course there is.” She grabbed his arm. It was solid, real.

Thomas shook his head. “I’m the Queen’s Bard now. I made a bargain with her, and it cannot be broken. I belong to the Court.”

“What do you mean?” But there was a chill in her stomach. She knew how it felt to lose a part of herself to the queen. Had Thomas given away everything?