Marny (24 page)

Finally, Nyx stopped. Through the trees, he
could just glimpse the inside of the warehouse—the silent dance
floor, the empty bar.

“This isn’t working,” he said, despair rising
up from his belly.

“It has to.” She sounded fierce. “If a
creature could come out, then we can go in. We’ve got to keep
trying.”

Her words nudged something in his brain, a
memory of his early days when he first conjured up the forest…

“Okay,” he said. “Maybe there’s one thing I
could try.”

It was the only thing he could think of. Not
letting himself dwell on what would happen if it didn’t work, Nyx
reached into his pack and rummaged through his provisions. Careful
to avoid the edges of his extra shuriken, he pulled out a protein
bar.

“Ah,” Marny said, like she knew exactly what
he was doing.

He went a few more paces into the forest.

“Um, hello,” he called, breaking off a piece
of bar and setting it on the velvet-green moss. “Want to come out
for a treat?”

He straightened and backed up a step, and
Marny waited silently beside him, her expression wary.

A shiver of motion, deep in
the forest.
Please, don’t be
spriggans.

The bushes rustled, closer now, and he
loosened his knife in its sheath. Just in case. From the corner of
his eye he saw Marny take a tighter grip on her spear. Whatever was
approaching was almost upon them.

A golden blur darted from the shadows and
halted a pace in front of him. Nyx sent up a quick prayer of
gratitude. It was the mouselike creature he’d seen the very first
time the forest had appeared in his bedroom.

“Hey, guy,” he said softly. “Sorry I don’t
have more pizza crusts—but you’re welcome to this protein bar.”

The creature tilted its head, like it was
listening, then snatched up the hunk of bar and devoured it in two
bites.

“Ask it to lead us into the Realm,” Marny
said.

Nyx nodded, then reached forward and set down
another piece of protein bar, keeping his movements slow and
careful.

“Happy to give you more of this, if you’ll
show us the way into the Realm of Faerie,” he said.

With a quiet squeak, the creature darted
forward and grabbed the food, munching it down so quickly Nyx
didn’t even see its mouth move.

“I hope that’s a yes,” Marny said.

The golden mouse turned and whisked away,
disappearing back into the underbrush. It didn’t come out again.
Dammit.

“Well,” he said, after waiting what felt like
an endless few minutes. “I guess that’s as good a way as any.” He
gestured in the direction the creature had disappeared.

“Fair enough,” Marny said.

They tromped silently for a while, the
scenery unchanging, and he kicked himself for not marking the trees
where they first came in. This was a stupid plan, and he was an
idiot to ever believe it could work.

“Look,” Marny said, nodding to their
left.

The little creature sat under a purple-edged
shrub, watching them with curious, intelligent eyes. Keeping his
gaze on it, Nyx broke another piece off the bar and held it
out.

Instead of running up to get it, the golden
mouse turned and scampered under the bushes. Nyx gave Marny a
questioning look, and she nodded. Looked like they were playing
follow-the-mouse.

They pushed through the green-leaved bushes,
and he kept an eye out for flashes of bright fur. Just when he
thought they’d lost their guide, the creature would reappear and
cock its head, as if impatient with their slow mortal feet.

“Hey,” Marny said after a while. “The forest
has changed.”

He’d been so intent on following the little
mouse that he hadn’t noticed, but now he saw that the trees had
gotten taller, the sky a brighter blue overhead. Pink and purple
flowers dotted the bushes, and orange butterflies darted in and out
of shafts of sunlight.

The air smelled different, too, green and
moist. A bird sang nearby, a liquid trill of notes ascending.

“Did we do it?” he asked.

“I think so, thanks to your little
friend.”

Nyx quickly unwrapped the rest of the bar,
then looked around for the mouse. “Where’d it go?”

They scanned the bushes, and then Marny
lifted her head, a smile curving the corners of her mouth.
“There.”

The golden creature had sprouted feathery
dark blue wings and was hovering in a small clearing just ahead.
Its fur glinted in the sun and there was a look of faint amusement
on its pointed face.

Nyx stepped forward and held out the protein
bar.

“Tha—”

“Your help is much appreciated,” Marny
interrupted. In a low voice she said to him, “You’re not supposed
to thank faeries. It’s a thing.”

“Okay.” He made the creature a little bow,
then held up the bar again. “Please accept this token of our,
um…”

The creature regarded him from its bright
eyes, then swooped over. It took the bar between its tiny paws,
then bent its head. He felt the soft brush of its fur and then a
sharp sting that made him jump back.

“Hey! It bit me.” He held up his hand. A
single drop of blood welled up on his index finger.

The flying mouse gave a high trill, like it
was laughing, then beat its wings. Up it went, ascending almost to
the treetops. Nyx squinted against the light, but the creature was
gone.

“Be careful with that.” Marny nodded at his
finger. “Make sure you don’t smear any blood around.”

He nodded and stuck his finger in his mouth,
sucking the blood away. The metal tang quickly faded.

“Why’d it do that?” he asked, inspecting his
finger. The bleeding had stopped.

“Because it’s a faerie. They’re completely
unpredictable. Don’t think they’re your friends. And don’t
necessarily assume they’re your enemies, either.”

“Except mostly they are.”

“Yeah. Mostly.” There was something in her
voice that made him think she spoke from experience. “Anyway, I’d
say we made it into the Realm.”

He nodded, a sudden cold fear gripping him.
They had managed to enter the Realm of Faerie—but how were they
supposed to get out again?

N
yx
looked over Marny, but didn’t voice his fear.

The Realm wasn’t going to conveniently
dissipate around them like one of his bubble creations once they
rescued his sister, but somehow they’d find a way out. Those
Feyguard friends of Marny’s would help, right?

In the meantime, they were, once again,
stranded in a magical forest.

“Now what?” He glanced around, but the golden
mouse seemed to have disappeared for good. “I think we lost our
guide.”

“Hmm.” Marny met his gaze, her brown eyes
full of the usual determination. “You said your sister rode off on
the back of a white stag?”

“According to her friend, yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound like something out of the
Dark Court.” She turned in a slow circle, peering into the trees,
then stopped and tipped her spear forward. “I say we head over
there, where the light is stronger. And if Emmie isn’t in the
Bright Court… Well, we can deal with that later.”

“Tackle the easier enemy first.” He nodded.
“So, we just keep going toward the sunshine?”

“I think.” Marny took a tighter grip on the
haft of her spear. “And hope we don’t have to do too much fighting
along the way.”

Nyx settled his pack and began picking a path
through the bushes, careful to do as little damage as possible.
Marny followed, her steps as vigilant as his. Once again, her
light-footedness struck him, especially with one arm bound up in a
sling.

“Have you had dance or martial arts
training?” he asked. “You move well.”

“My grandma taught me the Taualuga when I was
young,” she said. “That was pretty intense, even though I never had
to perform it.”

“What’s that?”

“A traditional ceremonial dance. My family’s
Samoan.”

“Cool.” He’d figured it was something like
that. “Do you visit the islands regularly?”

She let out a snort. “The only one who can
afford that is Grandma Harmony. Newpoint is the farthest I’ve ever
been from my hometown.”

He didn’t know whether to offer his
commiserations or congratulations, so he just kept quiet. They
walked silently for a bit, and he noted the trees were thinning
out, showing glimpses of the sky beyond.

“Do you hear that?” Marny asked.

He paused. Barely audible beneath the hushing
of the wind in the leaves was the sound of running water.

“A river, maybe?” he said.

She nodded. “That reminds me—we shouldn’t eat
or drink anything while we’re in here, no matter how good it looks.
Only the food we brought, otherwise we could end up trapped in the
Realm of Faerie for years.”

“Right.” He dimly recalled some old tales
about the negative consequences of eating food in magical
lands.

The forest changed, the pale-trunked trees
turning to shorter willows, the flowers now trumpetlike yellow
bells on fleshy stalks. The noise of running water was loud. Nyx
pushed through a stand of willows, and only his quick reflexes kept
him from tumbling into a clear, rushing river.

It was wider across than they could jump.
Glancing up and down the bank, he saw no sign of a bridge spanning
the water.

“Maybe we can follow it downstream,” Marny
said, coming up beside him. “Surely it leads somewhere.”

“Looks fairly deep.” He peered at the
current. “If the bank gets impassable, I’m not sure we can wade
it.”

“I’m not sure we’d want to. All kinds of
creatures could be living in there.”

“Um, yeah.” He took a step back. “I think I
see one now.”

Something was rising in the middle of the
stream—a head topped by swirling green hair. Two bulbous eyes
peered above the water, regarding them the way a frog looks at a
fly.

“Tasty morsels, come a little closer,” the
creature said in a burbling voice. It began humming, a wordless
tune that floated and twined like weeds in the current.

“Water hag,” Marny said in low voice. “Time
to go.”

She moved into the willows, but Nyx stood
there, reluctant to turn around. He imagined he could feel clammy
hands grasping him, pulling him down…

“Come on.” Marny grabbed his arm.

He blinked, his thoughts slow and sludgy.
Wouldn’t the water feel cool and nice, the mud so silky between his
toes?

Without meaning to, he moved nearer to the
river.

“Not okay.” Marny pulled at him, but he
turned his wrist and broke her grasp.

The creature smiled and drifted closer. One
moment she was a green-haired hag, and the next she transformed
into a beautiful maiden with promises in her eyes.

“Dammit. Come
on
. I can’t drag you out
of here one-handed.” Marny’s voice buzzed annoyingly in his ears.
He swatted the air, trying to drive it away.

The water maiden’s song
almost resolved into words. If he stayed a little longer he would
hear them. He would
understand
.

“Ow!” A sharp pain in his back made him
whirl.

Marny stood there, pointing the spear at him.
Her eyes shifted to the left.

“Duck,” she cried.

He did, and she jabbed awkwardly at the
hideous, green-slimed creature emerging from the river.

“Arghh,” the hag cried. “What cold iron
befouls the air?”

“The kind that will hurt you,” Marny said.
“Now, get away.”

The creature grabbed the haft of the spear,
keeping the point from touching her. With her other hand she
reached toward Nyx. His vision flickered, the hag strobing from
lovely to ugly with every blink.

It was too freaky. He bounded to his feet and
pulled his knife out.

“Begone!” He shook the point at her.

“We mean it.” Marny tugged at the spear.

“Iron, fly,” the water hag screeched. “Say
goodbye, up and down, then you drown!”

On the last word, she ripped the spear from
Marny’s grasp and swung it hard at Nyx. He got his arm up for a
block and the sudden impact knocked the knife from his hand. It
tumbled through the air, glinting, then hit the water with a splash
and disappeared.

“Run!” Marny cried, already scrambling
away.

Nyx turned and bolted through the willows,
mourning the loss of their best weapons. But no way was he going
after the creature for his spear, or diving into the river to get
his knife. They’d just have to keep going with what they had left.
He shot a look over his shoulder.

The water hag had transformed to a maiden
again, her long blonde hair shading down to green at the tips.

“Alas!” She gave him a beseeching look from
eyes like clear blue pools, and held out her arms. “All I beg is
but a single kiss from your lips.”