Marny (29 page)

“Get out.” He beat at the sack, half hoping
he’d squish the creature.

After a moment it emerged, and Nyx swore it
laughed at him, high and annoying like the whine of a mosquito.

Marny swiped at it, but the pixie zipped into
the air and rejoined its companions. The glowing creatures whirled
once more around the stag, then careened back toward the Bright
Court.

“I hate this place,” Marny said
matter-of-factly.

“Seconded.” He tried once more to
dismount.

No luck, of course. The White Stag bore them
steadily through the trees, the radiance of the court dimming as
they went further into the forest.

“At least we got Emmie out,” Nyx said. “That
was tweaked.”

“No,” Marny said. “That was too easy.”

“Are you kidding me?” He swiveled so he could
see her face. Her expression was dead serious. “You weren’t the one
who had to fight a fully armed faerie knight. Are you saying they
let me win?”

“I’m not saying that—don’t look so insulted.
I’m sure the king wanted you to lose, and the Bright Lance didn’t
strike me as the sort who’d agree to throwing a fight in favor of a
human. But they let us leave—and I’m worried about the agreement
you made.”

“The king said we’d get home safely.”

“Actually, no.” She raised her head and
looked at the forest, then glanced at the sky above. “He only said
we’d pass safely out of his court. And I’m very much afraid this
isn’t the way back to our world.”

Nyx surveyed the trees, which had changed
from gold and silver to the familiar white-barked ones. Overhead,
the sky turned a dim lavender color. As he watched, a single star
appeared, and then another.

“Where do you think we’re going?” he asked,
though the chill in his chest told him the answer before Marny
spoke.

“I think the stag is taking us… to the Dark
Court.”

A
wave of despair-tinged exhaustion rolled over Marny as she
said the words. The Dark Court. The last place in the universe they
should be, so of course it was where they were headed.

She should’ve trusted her instincts—but there
had been no point at which she could have made any other choice,
aside from not entering Nyx’s enchanted forest. Refusing to help
him hadn’t been an option.

So here they were, stuck on the back of a
magical deer carrying them relentlessly toward the Dark Court.

The trees around them turned to gnarled oaks,
and overhead the sky grew darker. The stars shone, brilliant sparks
forming strange constellations.

“I’m so sorry,” Nyx said, turning partway
around so he could see her. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“I suspect we would have ended up in exactly
the same place,” she said.

The events had unfolded inexorably, each step
forcing them onto the path the faeries wanted them to take. She and
Nyx weren’t without resources, however.

Slowly, Marny slid her hand down her leg,
until she touched the calf sheath holding her knife. Hoping the
stag didn’t notice, she bunched her jeans up enough to get her
fingers around the handle.

When she tried to pull it out, though, the
knife stayed put, like it was super-glued into the sheath.

“Stupid deer magic,” she said. “I can’t get
my knife out.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Can you
reach into my pack? Find the throwing stars? They’re wrapped up,
but still sharp, so be careful.”

He swiveled back around so she could open the
bag slung over his shoulder.

She reached inside the pack, her fingers
brushing over a can of Haydeez, a couple protein bars, and his
flashlight before she felt a folded piece of silk.

“This it?” She pulled out the small bundle
and handed it to him.

“Yeah, although…”

The frown on his face deepened as he folded
back the silk. Instead of two plasmetal shuriken, two bright
flowers lay upon the silk, their petals gaudy orange and red—and
completely harmless.

“That pixie,” Marny said, irritation flooding
through her. “I wish I’d had a bug swatter.”

“Oh man, they’re fading.” Nyx poked at the
flowers with one finger.

Sure enough, the petals were shriveling
before their eyes, disintegrating to dust. A sudden breeze blew up,
whirling over the cloth, and moments later all trace of the former
throwing stars was gone.

“So much for our weapons.” Nyx grimaced, then
balled the silk up and stuck it in his pocket. “This place seems
determined to disarm us.”

The Realm of Faerie pretty much sucked, but
talking about how tweaked it was would just make things worse.

“At least I still have my knife,” she said.
If she could ever get it out of the sheath. “Do you want a
Haydeez?”

“Sure. We might as well meet our doom wide
awake, right?”

Marny handed him a can, then dug out one for
herself. Nasty stuff. She made a face at the super-sweet taste, but
kept drinking. They both needed the energy jolt.

Darkness folded around them, the way ahead
lit by a pale glimmer emanating from the White Stag itself. A
sickle moon cut the sky overhead and white moths fluttered in the
branches of the shadowed oaks. Then, faintly, the silence was
broken by the sound of music.

Not the jaunty harp tunes of the Bright
Court, but a forlorn keening of bagpipes, the low throb of a drum,
a minor chord strummed from a sad guitar. Through the screen of
trees, Marny glimpsed purple flames flickering, where strange,
oddly jointed creatures with glistening wings capered about a
bonfire.

The trees encircled a clearing, where
nightmares laughed and coiled in the shadows. At the far side rose
a throne made of tangled vines, and Marny’s spit dried in her
throat.

They were almost to the Dark Court.

“Fire,” Nyx remarked.

“Yeah.” She didn’t hold out much hope of
being able to get the stag to walk conveniently past it,
however.

“Game plan?” Nyx asked, his voice tight.

“At some point this stupid deer has to
release us. When it does, we grab your sister and run.”

She didn’t elaborate. No point in informing
any listening creatures of the exact details, but Nyx knew as well
as she did that they had to get Emmie and themselves over to the
purple bonfire. And then hope Puck’s trinkets worked as
advertised.

The White Stag bore them into the clearing
and halted directly before the Dark Queen. Marny’s brain froze. She
was dimly aware of the beautiful and hideous denizens of the court,
the musicians playing softly from the shadows, the gossamer-winged
maidens gathered behind the queen’s tangled throne.

But the queen herself stole all thought, all
breath.

Black hair framed a face of ethereal, deadly
beauty. In her midnight gaze secrets swam, and Marny made herself
look away. Getting trapped in the queen’s eyes was most definitely
not a good idea.

The Dark Queen wore a gown of shade and
starlight, the edge of it trailing upon the ground and curling up
like smoke. She regarded the humans a moment longer, and then she
smiled. Marny shivered at the bitter frost in her expression.

“Well.” The queen leaned forward. “What a
sorry trio of mortals have landed upon my doorstep. One wrapped in
dreams, one wracked with guilt, and one afraid of her own softness.
You shall do well here, among the shadows.”

“We’re not staying,” Marny said.

The queen laughed, the sound like ice
cracking on a frozen lake. “Amusing as ever, you humans. Of course
you will remain. You have no other choice.”

She flicked her long, pale fingers and the
White Stag knelt gracefully on the velvet mosses before the throne.
Marny tensed, and felt Nyx do the same. The bonfire was several
yards away, and she forced herself not to glance over at it.

“My queen.” The guitar-playing minstrel
stepped forward, and Marny saw with relief that it was the former
human named Thomas. “Might you not reconsider? You only need one of
these humans to open the gateway, after all.”

Once a mortal man, Thomas Rimer had made a
bargain with the Dark Queen. Marny had never encountered him, but
Jennet talked a lot about the guy, who had been her dad’s best
friend and a lead programmer at VirtuMax. Now, however, he was
bound to serve as the queen’s Bard in the Dark Court—forever.

An eternity spent in the Realm of Faerie.
Marny shuddered at the thought.

“Bard Thomas.” Displeasure shaded the queen’s
voice. “Once again you overstep. Silence—I will hear no more of
your counsel on this matter.”

The bard nodded, his weary eyes meeting
Marny’s. She pressed her lips grimly together and gave him a nod.
At least he’d tried.

Now what? She swallowed back her fear and
tried to focus, but her thoughts kept darting aimlessly around like
the moths in the trees.

“So, can we get off this thing?” Nyx asked,
voice full of bravado. “I need to pee.”

A group of nearby goblins cackled, and Marny
shot them a look, hoping that Codcadden wasn’t among them. That was
one nasty redcap, and she was relieved he didn’t seem to be present
at court. Probably off somewhere ripping the legs from pixies or
something equally vicious.

Of course, there were plenty of other
horrible creatures she and Nyx would have to face as they dashed
for the fire: a black-mouthed banshee, an ogre wearing a belt
festooned with wide-eyed, decapitated heads, and any number of
clawed and fanged faeries that looked eager to take a bite of tasty
human flesh.

Dammit.

“White Stag,” the queen said. “You have
fulfilled the bargain struck with myself and my brother. Divest
yourself of your burden and rise. I grant you the freedom of the
Realm. Both courts are equal in your demesne, and none may harm you
without due cause.”

At the edge of the clearing, a red-eyed hound
growled. The queen shot a glare in that direction. Marny followed
her gaze, and shivered to see the horned silhouette of the Huntsman
lurking within the trees. Lean hounds with wicked teeth swirled
about his feet like fog, and two elfin knights mounted on
flame-footed steeds stood at his side.

“Leash your dogs,” the queen said. “This is
no quarry of the Wild Hunt.”

The Huntsman made a gesture of assent and his
hounds slunk away, back into the darkness beneath the oaks. He and
his riders turned and went with them, and Marny was glad to see
them go.

Not that she and Nyx didn’t have enough other
enemies to deal with.

“Mortals, you may alight,” the Dark Queen
said.

Marny exchanged a quick
glance with Nyx, then slung her leg over the stag and gratefully
stepped off. She did not
ever
want to be stuck on a magical mount again. Beside
her, Nyx stretched his legs and dismounted.

He tucked an arm around his sister and coaxed
her off the White Stag. For a second she swayed, and Marny worried
the girl was going to topple over, but Nyx steadied her and she
remained standing. Emmie didn’t look very present, though. She
blinked and smiled dreamily at the faerie maidens hovering behind
the queen’s throne. Good thing she wasn’t looking at the
goblins.

The stag leaped gracefully to its feet and
bowed to the queen over one outstretched foreleg. Then, quick as a
moonbeam, it whirled and bounded out of the Dark Court. Its pale
hide glowed against the blackness of the trees, growing ever more
distant until it was a speck of star in the velvety dark.

A
s
the denizens of the Dark Court watched the White Stag disappear
into the woods, Marny bent and checked her knife. It was loose in
the sheath again, and she let out a quick breath of
thanks.

Question was, when should she use it? She
wasn’t foolish enough to think she could attack the queen. And they
were still too far from the bonfire to make a run for it—especially
if Nyx had to carry his sister.