Marny (21 page)

“Then we deal with that when we get there,”
she said. “One step at a time. Now, what do you need to do to
create the forest again? Cast a spell?” She wiggled her
fingers.

“It’s not magic. Not really. I have to go
in-game and get some stuff.”

“Get some stuff?” Her voice rose in surprise.
“You mean, out of Feyland?”

“Yeah. I know it sounds crazy—”

“We’ve already established you’re not crazy.”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “It’s not normal for players to be
able to bring things out of the Realm. But it’s not
impossible.”

“There’s a lot I wish you’d told me, Marny
Fanalua.”

She opened her mouth to reply, and he held up
one hand, forestalling her from speaking.

“But you’re right,” he continued. “I couldn’t
believe you last night. I’m sorry for that. And for freaking out on
you. It’s just…”

“I know. I’d be losing it, too. But we’re not
in this alone. Those people I mentioned that have gone into the
Realm and come out again? They’re my friends—and my uncle, Zeg—and
they’re called the Feyguard. Their job is to help with exactly
these issues. Let me get ahold of them.”

“Okay.” He clung to the thought that help
would be on the way while Marny typed on her messager.

After a minute, she tucked it away, her
expression a little unsettled.

“Are they coming?” he asked, not liking the
look in her eyes.

“I could only reach Roy and my uncle. They’ll
try coming to help us via the game—but they haven’t gotten any
alerts about anything going wrong, which may make it hard for them
to find us. Not that it’s a perfect system, but still…” She gave
herself a little shake and refocused on Nyx. “So—you need to enter
Feyland. Where’s your FullD setup?”

“Spare room.”

He turned and headed for the back hallway,
Emmie’s loss echoing through him with every step. Marny followed,
quiet and light on her feet. Her steady acceptance of what was
happening helped center him, and he pushed away the corroding
blame. First, get Emmie back. He could deal with his own stupidity
later.

“Good thing I have two sim systems,” he said,
holding open the door. “We can go into Feyland together.”

She shook her head, her thick black hair
bobbing. “No. I don’t sim.”

He paused and gave her a hard look. “I
thought you were a serious gamer.”

“Screenie only. Simming makes me
claustrophobic.” She glanced at the two rigs in the room, and her
shoulders hunched a little.

“What if I get into trouble
in there?” he asked. “What if everything has changed, or your
theory about going through the enchanted forest is wrong, and
I
do
get a chance
to rescue Emmie?”

Her mouth set in a grim line. “I really
don’t—”

“Please. I need you.” He couldn’t keep the
desperation from his voice. Marny was his lifeline—the one person
who knew what was going on, who had a clue how to save his sister.
He didn’t want to go anywhere without her. In game, or out.

Indecision was clear in her face, and he
could see the flash of panic in her eyes when she looked over at
the equipment again. She really was afraid of gearing up.

Dammit. He wasn’t the kind
of guy who’d force somebody past their comfort level. No matter how
much he wanted to
make
her come. She’d already said no. He took a deep
breath.

“I’ll try going in by myself,” he said,
though the words stung his tongue. “I mean, maybe your friends are
on the way, right?”

He didn’t want to game alone, especially
since now he knew how dangerous Feyland could be. And he was half
hoping that she’d relent, give him that rare smile, and say of
course she’d come.

But she stayed put as he went over to the sim
chair and started pulling on the gloves. Her expression was tense,
and her clenched hands were a dead giveaway.

“I…” she began, then trailed off, her voice
croaking a little.

“It’s okay,” he said, though it wasn’t. “If I
see anything strange, I’ll come back out.”

She nodded tightly.

Nyx flexed his fingers inside the gaming
gloves, then settled in the chair. Swallowing the words of entreaty
clogging his throat, he pulled on the sim helmet and carefully
didn’t look at Marny. She hadn’t moved from her post by the door,
and disappointment and anxiety churned in his stomach.

Churned worse when he entered the game, the
golden light triggering a bout of nausea he fought down. Then he
was in, standing in a circle of white-spotted red mushrooms.

The air smelled like dusty mint, and warm
sunshine spilled into the clearing. The light danced off the
silver-leaved trees, a bird sang nearby, and despite himself, Nyx’s
clenched jaw relaxed. Not that he was completely safe, but he knew
from experience that fear could tighten a competitor up so much
they lost their edge.

Time to focus on his main objective: get some
leaves so he could re-conjure the enchanted forest and go after
Emmie.

Although if he caught even a hint of his
sister in-game, or saw anything white moving in the forest, he was
so going after that.

One step at a time.

He slipped an arrow out of his quiver and
nocked it on the bow, then quietly stepped out of the mushroom
ring. The path winding through the trees looked clear, but he
didn’t trust it to stay that way. Feyland was a tricky place.

Dappled shadows fell over the purple-flowered
bushes and ferns growing beside the path. Ahead, something moved,
and he halted, lifting his bow.

It was just a branch swaying in the breeze.
Nothing to jump at. Swallowing, Nyx kept going. Marny and all her
talk of how dangerous Feyland was had really hyper-tuned his
nerves. He passed a pile of sticks lying near the path, and
couldn’t help glancing into the deeper shade under the trees. Had
something white flickered there, between the pale-barked
trunks?

The scrape of wood on wood made him whirl. He
raised his bow, only to have it whacked out of his hands by an
oaken staff. The wielder stood before him—a twiggy creature with
long limbs made of branches. Around its face was a halo of green
leaves, and its eyes were dark and unfriendly.

It lifted one gnarled hand and blew a puff of
sparkling dust into Nyx’s face. He coughed, then whirled, searching
for where his bow had landed in the underbrush. He needed to snatch
his weapon, then sprint up the path for a clear shot…

The path was blocked by another treelike
creature on the other side of him, this one covered in green
needles and carrying a pointed spear. Dammit. Nyx fumbled for the
knife at his belt with suddenly clumsy fingers, only to have the
first creature grab him and whip vinelike ropes around his
torso.

No! How could he have been caught so easily?
He was failing Emmie.

He scrabbled at the bindings, trying to find
a spot he could wriggle an arm free. His body felt sluggish and
unresponsive. Had that dust been some kind of drug?

“I told you the mortal would be easy
pickings, Pinebough,” the first creature said in a voice that
creaked like branches rubbing together.

The needle-covered creature gave a slow nod.
“Not much of a fight in it.”

“Not supposed to fight it. Just capture the
human and bring it to the court. Simple.”

“Simple—if you cheat,” Pinebough said.
“Nightshade dust is for cowards and puny brambles.”

The first creature narrowed its eyes. “Are
you calling me a bramble bush? I’ll poke you.”

Pinebough’s needles rose, puffing up his
size. “Everyone knows your grandmother was nothing but a briar
rose. Barely worthy of being called a spriggan.”

Nyx blinked sleepily. Part of him knew the
argument was a perfect chance to try and escape, but somehow he
couldn’t get that part of his brain to talk to the rest of his
body. Idly, he noted the bushes beside the path moving, though
there was no breeze. The ferns dipped and swayed, as though
something had just walked through them.

“You poked me!” Pinebough glared at his
companion and raised his pointed spear. “Prepare to battle!”

The first creature shoved Nyx behind him and
lifted his staff. “I’ll scatter you to the winds, rootbrain.”

Nyx stumbled, his feet feeling like they were
stuck in cement. Something grabbed his elbow, steadying him.

“Who…?” He blinked, his vision blurry, but
couldn’t see anything.

“Shh. I’m going to cut you loose, but as soon
as I draw my blade, I’ll become visible,” a soft voice whispered in
his ear. “Get ready to grab your bow. I think we can take them
out.”

“Marny?” Relief rushed through him, clearing
his mind a bit. “I’m drugged—not sure I can shoot.” Or even
walk.

“Crap. Okay, let’s figure out plan B.”

He could hear her breathing, could faintly
sense the reassuring bulk of her body next to him. Part of him was
embarrassed that he needed rescuing like some damsel in distress,
but mostly he was profoundly glad she was there.

The branchy creatures were still fighting and
paying no attention to Nyx, but judging by the amount of needles
and twigs littering the path, their battle would be over soon. Then
they’d get back to taking him to the court, whatever that was. It
didn’t sound good.

“Start moving toward the clearing,” Marny
said. “Hopefully the spriggans won’t notice for a bit. Go
slow.”

He nodded. Slow was about the only setting he
could manage.

“What about you?” he whispered. It went
against his instincts to leave the fighting to Marny and just run
away. Besides, she was his only ally. What if she got captured,
too?

“As soon as you’re at the faerie ring, I’ll
join you,” she said.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t face-plant into the
shrubbery, Nyx began shuffling away. He’d made it about halfway
back to the clearing when Pinebough let out a shout.

“The human is escaping!”

Nyx broke into an awkward
trot, biting his lip hard so the pain would clear his head.
Don’t fall. Don’t look back.
His job was get to the mushroom ring, and trust that Marny
would make it, too.

His pursuers clacked after him, and then he
heard a thud.

“You tripped me,” the first spriggan cried.
“You underhanded spawn of a thistle! You think to deprive me of my
fair share of the bounty?”

“I never touched you,” Pinebough replied. It
lifted its pinecone-like nose and sniffed. “I smell another
presence! Some sneaky magic is at play. An invisible foe stands in
our way.”

Nyx heard the sound of thrashing branches,
and then a grunt of pain. Marny.

“Aha—the rogue is discovered,” the first
spriggan said.

“Another human. Our bounty has doubled.”
Pinebough’s voice was full of glee. “Grab her, quickly.”

“I don’t think so,” Marny said. “Nyx,
run!”

It was hard, with his arms bound against his
body, but he forced himself to go faster. Ahead, the mushroom ring
glowed scarlet in the sunshine. Almost there.

He stumbled over an exposed root and lost his
balance. No, dammit. He went to his knees, and then Marny grabbed
him and hoisted him to his feet.

“Cut me free,” he gasped.

She glanced over her shoulder, then used the
knife already in her hand to slice through his bindings. Blindly,
Nyx reached out and tore a handful of leaves off a nearby bush.

“Go, go,” Marny said, grabbing his arm and
propelling him forward.

The two of them careened into the clearing.
Marny practically threw him into the center of the faerie ring,
then leaped in herself.

“No!” Pinebough cried.

The spriggan lunged, stabbing with his spear,
and hit Marny in the upper arm just as brilliant golden light began
swirling around them. She cried out, and then the world turned
upside down.

P
ain drilled through Marny, accompanied by the horrible queasy
sensation she always got going in and out of Feyland.

She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated
on breathing through the nausea. Getting sick all over Nyx’s equip
was not an option—although she had the feeling she’d already gotten
blood on his sim chair. Stupid, to let that spriggan get close
enough to spear her.

The golden light stopped spinning, then
cleared to show the room where Nyx kept his sim systems. They’d
made it.

And she could not wait to get out of the
constricting dimness of the gaming helmet.

She sat up, then gasped and
fell back into the chair as fire ripped through her arm and seared
along every nerve ending. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked
them away.
Just a little
poke
, she told herself.
I’m okay.
The warm liquid oozing down
her arm wasn’t a good sign, though.