Feyland: The Dark Realm

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tam slept late on Saturday. He was vaguely aware of voices - Mom and the Bug - before dreaming pulled him under again. When he finally woke, the house was quiet. Too quiet. No smell of coffee. No clacking of tools as the Bug messed with his hard-drive.

He kicked off his sleeping bag and scrambled to his feet. Mom had only been home a few days. Surely she hadn’t run off already? Worry clenched through him, but he forced it back. Maybe she left a note.

He checked the table three times, but there was nothing. With fear crawling up his throat, he stepped into Mom’s tiny bedroom. It was painted a soothing blue that did nothing to stop the worry hammering through him.

The inlaid box on the bookshelf, where Mom kept the money, was empty. God, she was gone again. But why did she take Peter? Or was his brother downstairs?

He pulled on his jeans and flew down the rickety staircase. The heavy metal door was locked. Finally the stubborn key turned and Tam heaved open the door. Empty, dark and quiet. No annoying little brother to be found.

Ok, breathe. Think. Mom loved Peter - she wouldn’t do something dumb like sell him for medical parts or turn him over to a gang boss.

So where were they?

His pulse roared. No, wait. That was some kind of motorcycle, the sound bouncing around from the street. It stopped outside the building. Tam went outside and locked the door, then looked around the corner.

A cop, in body-armor and a faceless helm, sat astride a cycle. The motor throbbed in time with Tam’s heartbeat. When the cop saw him, he cut the engine and glanced down at his hand-held.

“This 1329 Bittern Street?” he asked in a gravelly voice. He slanted a look up, at the shack they called home. The weak sunlight slid across his polished helm

“Yeah.” Tam shoved his hands in his pockets. This had to do with Mom and the Bug, he just knew it.

“You Mister Tam Linn?”

“I am.”

“Got ID?”

Tam lifted one shoulder. “Upstairs. What’s going on? Uh, sir.” It was like talking to the creatures in Feyland - best if you followed protocol.

“We got your family at the station. Your Ma’s in lockup, and your kid brother wants to come home. Got any more kin here? Anybody else responsible for you?”

“No. What happened?” He barely remembered to add, “Sir.”

“She tried a dump-and-run at the hospital. The orderlies caught her before she could get out. Most people do that with babies, though. Not bigger kids.”

“My brother is… different.” Oh Mom. What a stupid thing to try. He could figure out her reasons, though, and it made him feel queasy and heartsick.

“Alright, well you gotta come up to the station and get the kid. Bring your ID.”

“What about my mom?”

“We keep her a few days. Counseling, all that.”

“But—”

“Station closes at three, and you don’t want the kid there overnight. Trust me.” Before Tam could say anything else, the cop fired up his cycle, patted his holster, and roared away.

Damn.

He trudged up the stairs. First thing to do was message Jennet and let her know their plans for playing over the weekend were dud. Then it would take a trip on three different buses to get to the station and retrieve the Bug. Would they let him see Mom? What would he even say to her?

Underneath the planning, part of his brain was kicking and screaming. How could she do this to him, to their family? How was he going to explain it to Peter? And how was he going to help Jennet defeat the queen when his own life was falling apart around him?

 # # #

 At dinner, Jennet sat quietly across from her dad and pushed her green beans around on her plate. Worry had curdled her appetite, and she didn’t know what to think of the terse message Tam had sent. :Life stuff, can’t come. See you at school:

He knew how close they were to endgame, how important it was. Whatever had happened, it must be serious.

“You’re quiet tonight,” her dad said. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Yes. No. But how could she possibly explain?

“I miss Thomas.” The words were out before she realized what she was going to say.

Dad’s face shuttered. “Me too, Jen. Me too.”

Well, that brought the conversation to a screeching halt. After a minute she pushed her plate away. “So, how’s work going?”

“Slowly.” He shook his head. “Without Thomas… well, we’re behind schedule. And the CEO is pushing us hard. She wants a release in time for the holidays.”

If only Jennet could get Dad in-game. She knew Thomas would convince him to drop the project altogether. But there was no chance.

Dad took another bite of meat, and then rested his hands on the table. “Isn’t your friend Tam coming over this weekend? George says he seems pleasant enough.”

Great. Her dad was grilling the chauffeur about Tam. She thought back - had they let anything about Feyland slip while in the car? Just because George was as quiet as rocks didn’t mean he wasn’t listening to everything they said.

“Um, Tam had something come up.”

She wished she knew what it was, or if there was any way she could help him. He seemed too used to dealing with stuff by himself. Did he even know how to ask for help? Or that it would be ok if he did?

Marie came in to clear the plates, and Dad nodded his thanks at her. Then he turned his attention back to Jennet.

“I’m sorry to hear your friend won’t be coming over,” he said. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. Soon.”

Marie let out a sniff, as if to say he’s nothing but trash, but Jennet ignored her.

“He should be around sometime this week. Or maybe next weekend.” He had to be - next Sunday was All Hallow’s Eve.

Halloween. The knowledge sat like a cold lump in the middle of her stomach. One week. They had one week left to defeat the queen.

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

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