A shadow crossed in front of the window, and then a metal cover in the door slid open a bare inch. An eye regarded her.
“Hi,” Jennet said. “Um - Tam, is that you?” Somehow she didn’t think so. Unease tightened the back of her neck and prickled down her spine.
The eye looked at her a moment more, then the peephole cover closed abruptly. Jennet waited, but there was nothing else - no greeting or dismissal, no opening door. She bit her lip. Should she knock again? Maybe it had been the little brother, and he didn’t know what to do. Although, whoever had been looking at her, it hadn’t felt like a kid.
“Hello?” she called. “Is Tam home?”
The silence continued on the other side of the door.
She waited for what felt like forever. Finally, Jennet turned away. Disappointment was sour in her mouth. She took one step down the rickety stairs. Then another.
Behind her came the quiet jangle of a chain, the clunk of a deadbolt being drawn back. Whoever had been standing there was opening the door. Half-afraid to look, she made herself turn around.
The door swung back to reveal a woman on the threshold. She clung to the knob, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. She was tiny, and not just because she was emaciated, though that didn’t help. Her green eyes were ringed with weary circles. Brown hair, cut raggedly short, framed her too-thin face.
“Who?” she whispered, the question a bare thread of sound.
“I’m a friend of Tam’s,” Jennet said, making her voice soothing. This woman looked like she could be knocked over by a loud voice, an abrupt move. “Is he home?” Please, let him be here.
“Mom?” It was Tam’s voice, calling from inside.
Thank god - he was all right. Relief poured through her, making her knees weak. Tam was here. Not collapsed on the floor because the game had ripped out a piece of his soul. Not bleeding away from some game injury that crossed the boundary into real life.
“Hey mom, where are you?” he called again, sounding worried.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, and then looked back at Jennet. She nodded, once, and then Tam was standing beside her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, all his attention fixed on the wraith of the woman still clinging to the doorknob. “Come back inside now, Mom. You shouldn’t be up.”
Then his gaze moved past the woman. He looked unhappy to see Jennet standing there.
“Hi,” she said. “I wanted to see if you were ok.”
“I’m fine.” He put a protective arm around his mom and steered her back into the house.
Jennet took a hasty step forward, before he could close and lock the door in her face. “Can’t I come in? There are some crazies out there, you know.”
“Whatever.” He didn’t sound at all pleased about it. “I’ll be right back. Close the door, and make sure it’s locked.” Without looking back, he guided his mom inside.
“Nice,” Jennet said under her breath.
She hadn’t thought Tam would throw a party when she showed up, but she hadn’t expected this borderline hostility. Especially after running together in Feyland so successfully the day before. She’d thought they were allies, at the very least.
After closing - and bolting - the door, she stepped into the middle of the room. Tam’s place was slightly better than a shed, but to call it a house would be a stretch. It smelled musty, with an underlay of old grease and rust. The main room had a thin couch along one wall, with bedding pushed down at the bottom. In the corner was a sleeping-bag and worn pillow. Pretty obvious that Tam and his brother slept here. A bathroom was wedged in beside the kitchen, but it was too small to even qualify as a room.
Next to the sleeping area was an overflowing bookshelf, made from rough boards nailed together. Comics and computer repair schematics spilled out of the shelves in messy stacks, sandwiched in between old game manuals, kid stories and some novels. It reminded her of the other reason she was here - to give Tam the book in her satchel. And - her breath caught - to tell him about Feyland.
In front of the couch, taking up part of the floor, was spread a thin webwork of wires. Jennet took a careful step closer. They seemed to be attached to Tam’s gaming gloves. Was he doing some modifications? There was nothing he could do to make his gloves respond like the VirtuMax ones. He shouldn’t even try.
Tam came back into the room, closing his mom’s door quietly behind him. He folded his arms.
“So,” he said, “what do you want?”
Jennet tried not to look like his attitude was bothering her, but the unfriendliness in his voice and expression hurt. He’d gone back to being the wary stranger with hair in front of his eyes.
“Nice to see you, too,” she said. “I’m glad you didn’t get jumped by the crazies last night, or break your neck on the stairs, or something like that.”
“My mom came home,” he said, like that should explain everything.
Which in some ways it did. Obviously his mom was a wreck, and Tam was taking care of her. Jennet couldn’t blame him for missing school - it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. Even though it had put her in a severe panic.
“We need to talk,” she said.
He gave a sharp nod. “You first.”
She swallowed. “Could we sit down?”
“Ok. Watch the wires.” He stepped over the eviscerated gaming gloves and pushed the bedding off the end of the couch, then perched there.
Jennet sat at the other end and leaned her satchel against her legs. She nodded at the floor. “Are you re-configuring your gloves?”
His expression tightened even more. “You could say that. The whole system is down for maintenance right now.”
“Oh. So - you can’t play at home?”
“Look.” He pushed the hair out of his eyes and gave her an angry glare. “Why did you come here?”
“I have something to show you.” She pulled the old book out of her bag and handed it to him.
He stared at the cover a long moment, and then opened the book, turning the pages with a care that eased some of her tension. Familiar faces flashed past. Fynodderee. Puck. At the illustration of Peg Powler, the water hag, he stopped.
“This is the inspiration for Feyland,” he said. “Where’d this book come from? Is it yours?”
“It belonged to the lead developer who worked with my Dad on the game. His name was Thomas Rimer.”
Tam slowly closed the book. “What happened to him?”
His expression was serious. Would he still trust her, still believe her, when she told him the truth?
“He…” Jennet twisted her fingers together. “My dad would tell you he died of a stroke, but… I think somehow the game killed him.”
“Wait a minute,” Tam said, rubbing at his forearm. “How can a game kill someone? That can’t happen, not literally.”
Jennet took a deep breath. “Feyland isn’t just a game, Tam. I know it sounds crazy, but I think it’s somehow connected to the Realm of Faerie.”
“Get real.” He pushed the book onto the couch and stood. “There’s no such thing.”
“If it’s not real then what is that book all about?” She pointed to Tales of Folk and Faerie, sprawled on the faded blanket.
“Fairy tales!” Tam jammed his hands in his pockets. “It’s just a book. Stories to frighten kids, made-up stuff - they’re not real.”
She used to think the same thing. “That book is hundreds of years old, Tam! Those stories aren’t made-up - they’re collected from real people who had real experiences with something beyond our world. Did you know that in Europe, stone circles used to be recognized as portals into Faerie? Burial mounds, sacred wells - all of those were doorways to somewhere else.”
“So?”
“So - those places are gone now.”
“And what?” He gave a disbelieving laugh. “Now the faeries are trying to get to us through games? You’re insane, Jennet.”
His disbelief stabbed through her. She’d thought - she’d hoped - that Tam would believe her. He was the only one who might.
A muffled cry from the bedroom made them both turn.
“Damn - she’s waking up.” He turned on her, a fierce look in his eyes. “You need to go. Now.”
“Fine. I’m leaving you the book.”
Another cry, louder this time, followed by a thump. Tam took her arm and marched her to the door. “I don’t have time for your wacko theories about Feyland, Jennet. Just, stay out of my life from now on. I have more important things to deal with.”
She blinked hard against the sting of tears. He wasn’t worth it.
Except that, he was.
“Tam—”
“Bye.” He closed the door in her face. The bolt chunked back into place. From inside came the sound of something breaking.
Jennet sank down on the top step. It took a minute for her to blink away her tears. School was almost out. She’d wait a little longer, then call George to pick her up. She didn’t think Tam would let her back inside. She wasn’t welcome, that was beyond clear, but she wasn’t about to walk back alone through the Exe.
She stared at the grey sky and took a shaky breath. All right. So much for her gamer hero. It was better this way - for both of them. Feyland was too dangerous, especially for someone who didn’t take it seriously.
She was on her own. Again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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