Feyland: The Dark Realm

Chapter Forty

Tam stood utterly still as two faerie maidens swirled about him. One fixed gilded oak leaves to the front of his tunic while the other wove a cloak of cobwebs about his shoulders. The faerie glade was glittering with excitement, but none of it touched him. He felt as if there were a layer of fog between him and the world. Between his thoughts and his heart.

In the shadows, Bard Thomas strummed his guitar. Silvery riffs of music blended with the laughter and motion of the fey-folk, and the words of Thomas’s song lilted to Tam.

“Tonight so mirk and deep we ride,

Depart unseelie from the glade,

This Hallow’s Eve the Hunt will bide,

To pay the tiend the Faerie Rade.”

Half of it sounded like gibberish, but it was clear the faeries were getting ready to go somewhere. And taking him with them.

“Brave Tamlin.” The Dark Queen’s voice slid over his senses like midnight silk.

He turned his head to see her standing beside him. Her dress was layers of moon-dappled cloud, with pale glimpses of her skin beneath. The scent of night-blooming flowers perfumed the air with their secrets. He felt dizzy.

“My lady,” he said.

She moved to stand before him, her slim body so close it made his skin vibrate. Her slender fingers caressed his cheek. Then she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Stars exploded through his body, a rush of painful sensation like blood returning to a frozen limb. She tasted of spices and wild honey. Like everything perfect, and forbidden.

An instant later, the kiss ended. Tam clenched his hands. If he reached for her, she would slip through his grasp like smoke, laughing.

“You are strong and fair, my knight.”

“I…” Someone else had called him her knight. For a bare second Tam remembered pale hair, a soft smile - and then the memory was gone. Lost to the dusky magic of the faerie realm.

A hint of sorrow touched the queen’s voice. “A bonny offering you make. Would that I could keep you.”

“What’s going on?” Vague curiosity uncurled inside him.

“You fulfill your destiny, brave knight. And ours. Now - to the final preparations.”

The queen held a mask in her hands. Tam caught a glimpse of gold and crimson laid in opulent patterns. She lifted it to his face, and his vision narrowed. Directly in front of him stood a hairy brown figure holding the bridle of a white horse. Gold and crimson caparisons draped the steed, and tiny silver bells were braided into its mane. They chimed, high and delicate, as he mounted.

Before him, the Black Knight handed the queen up onto a chestnut brown horse. Then the knight mounted his own dark steed and held up one black-gloved hand.

The clearing grew still, the air hushed and expectant.

“Now, my court,” the queen said, her words falling, clear as frozen crystal, into the silence. “Now the gateway lies within our grasp. Now we ride!”

 # # #

 It was late - way late. Jennet lay in her bed, watching the numbers glow on her clock while her body grew cold and tight with fear. Ten. Ten-thirty. Light still shone from the crack under her door. What was Dad doing? Why didn’t he go to bed?

Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to go, go, go! Jump out of bed and get in-game. Save Tam, before it was too late.

But she couldn’t risk it, even though her stomach churned with fear. Not until Dad turned off the lights.

Finally, at eleven-oh-five, the house darkened. Jennet forced herself to wait another few minutes before silently slipping out of bed. The thick carpeting made her feet noiseless as she tiptoed down the hall. There was a game she used to play - moving so slowly and silently that she wouldn’t trigger HANA’s sensors. She held her breath and hoped she hadn’t forgotten the knack. She trailed one hand along the wall, careful to avoid the table at the corner. There was no way she could explain her way out of this if she were caught.

She closed and locked the game room door behind her, wincing as the lock made a quiet metallic noise. Still feeling her way, she fumbled for the jamming field switch. It hummed to life, and she let out a breath. Her lungs felt like they were made of metal, impervious to air.

The sim chair powered on smoothly, and Jennet pulled on the helmet, the gloves. Time to go.

Feyland unfurled, and she plunged into the swirl of golden light.

She landed, as usual, in a grassy circle, then fell to her knees while sick shudders racked her. Gasping, she fought back the sensation. Tam. She couldn’t waste time vomiting in a faerie ring. She had to find Miles Cross.

As soon as she stepped over the mushrooms, a thin hand tugged at her robes. “Quickly, quickly,” a high voice said.

“Puck?” She held up her staff. The blue glow illuminated the figure of the sprite. His usual grin was gone, and he danced back and forth with impatience.

“Of course it is I. Follow!” He dashed down the path.

Jennet gathered her skirts in one hand and ran after him. It was bad, if the sprite wasn’t even giving her cryptic hints and riddles. They must be nearly out of time.

They burst out of the forest of pale trees into a midnight landscape. Shadows lay heavy on the land, and there was no moon.

“Puck - where are you?” The blackness pressed against Jennet. She swallowed the sourness of her own fear.

“Here!” The sprite grabbed her robes again and towed her forward, at a speed that made her stumble.

Up one hill, then down. Up another, pressing forward through brambles that raked at her skin. Breath rasped through her throat.

Puck was grimly silent. Only the constant pull on her robes let her know he was still there.

Up ahead, a faint light shone through the dark. She squinted and made out a single lantern hanging from a post, illuminating the pale dust of two roads crossing. A crossroads.

“Miles Cross?” she gasped.

“Hurry!” Abruptly, Puck’s grip on her eased.

She whirled, but the sprite had disappeared. With his last command ringing in her ears, Jennet sprinted forward.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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