Marny (11 page)

At least the city was still there, shining
outside her window. She wrapped her hands around her mug, absorbing
the heat, and went to admire the view.

Slabs of shadow lay across the streets and
smaller buildings, and the west-facing windows shone gold with the
light of the lowering sun. A few wispy clouds smudged the horizon,
maybe enough to hold on to a sunset.

Light glimmered in the corner of her vision
and Marny leaned forward, craning her neck to the side. There had
been something familiar about that flicker emanating from south of
the downtown core.

It came again, a quick shimmer like a tiny
firework, barely seen before it disappeared.

She tightened her grip around her tea mug.
That had looked uncomfortably like a stray bit of fey magic; a wisp
or pixie flitting over the mortal city.

No. Surely there was another explanation.

Somebody was setting off fireworks in a
vacant lot or playing with lasers, or it was a reflection off a
grav-car as it sped past. Nothing to do with the Realm of
Faerie.

But there was no denying the game of Feyland
was now everywhere, in worldwide release. Crestview couldn’t be the
only place the Realm crossed over into the human world. Why
couldn’t it happen here, in Newpoint?

She shivered, and took a quick swallow of her
tea.

If something was going tweaked, her friends
Tam and Jennet would know. They were the official Feyguard, after
all, whereas she was just a normal girl.

Okay, maybe not that normal. She’d seen
faeries and helped her friends battle them, as well as fighting by
their side when necessary.

Despite the low-level worry winding through
her, she smiled briefly at the memory of the fierce little
changeling, Korrigan. He was an ugly guy with a mean streak, but
brave and loyal when it mattered. If only all the fey folk were
like that.

She watched as twilight dusted the city with
ashes, but there was no more sign of the faerie light. If she’d
even seen it.

Marny drank the last of her now-cold tea,
then grabbed her messager and settled on her bed.

:You
there?:
she sent in group chat to Tam
and Jennet.

:Sec,:
Tam replied.
:In battle.:

Marny scooched back against the pillows,
wishing she had her big Manu Samoa T-shirt to sleep in. She wasn’t
necessarily a rugby fan, but Grandma Harmony had brought it to her
from her last trip to the islands.

:We’re
out. How was your first day?:
Jennet
sent.

:Good.
Tiring.:
Marny didn’t bother
mentioning her homesickness.
:Hey, is anything incoming on the
Feyguard radar?:

:Why?:
Tam asked, and even from
nearly a thousand miles away she could hear the worry in his
question.

: Just
saw something odd, and wondered. Nothing severe, just twinkly
lights.:

:Strange
noises?:
Jennet sent.

:Like
creepy hunting horns? No.:
What she
may or may not have seen wasn’t the Wild Hunt—and she was grateful
for that.

:Hm,:
Jennet typed.
:Actually, I might need to go
to India on Feyguard business—but we haven’t been notified of
anything around Newpoint. Pay attention if you have any strange
dreams.:

:And
keep an eye out,:
Tam sent.
:You have the power to see
beyond normal reality.:

:India?!:
Marny was completely distracted by that news. Jennet was
being sent to India? Poor Tam.
:For how long?:

:Probably a few weeks. An interesting situation has come up.
Dad’s coming, too. Sort of like a family vacation.:

:Now
with more faeries,:
Tam added dryly.

:Ha,:
Jennet
typed.
:Listen, I
agree with Tam. Trust your instincts about whatever you see, and
stay in touch.:

Not that Jennet could do a lot from halfway
across the world. Nor Tam, since he was pretty much tied to
VirtuMax with a summer internship the same way Marny was to
Intertech. But if she ended up needing Feyguard help, surely it
would arrive, in one form or another.

:Okay,:
she
wrote
. :I’ll keep
you posted. Goodnight you two.:

:Hugs,:
Jennet sent, along with a
smiley emote.

:Night,:
Tam typed.

Once they logged off, Marny’s room felt cold
and empty. With a sigh, she set her messager on the dresser, then
went to stand in front of the window again. The lights of Newpoint
filled the sky with orange city-glow, brighter than at home.

She watched for a long time, but there was no
flicker of fey magic to be seen.

The sprite called Puck traveled deep into the
misty dawn of the Realm of Faerie, swooping over dew-pearled
meadows on the back of a snowy owl. His eyes glinted with mischief
and merriment, and stalks of yarrow fluttered in his untidy hair.
He wore a tunic of tattered leaves stitched together with cobwebs
and his leggings were woven of emerald moss.

Ahead stood a circle of standing stones, the
very tops catching the first rays of the rising sun. The granite
glinted with mica, and in the center of the circle something stood,
a pale blur, a creature whiter than the moon.

Puck grinned with delight. He had guessed
well that he might find his quarry in this place, pining for the
days when such a circle might open a doorway between the worlds.
The sprite brought his owl to a silent landing just outside the
stones and bade it wait for him. Then, mindful of the damp grasses,
he floated up and into the circle.

The beast inside lifted its majestic antlered
head and regarded him from eyes as deep and liquid as a forest
lake.

“Greetings, walker between the worlds,” Puck
said, making the White Stag an elaborate bow.

“Puck. What causes you to seek me out? This
is no simple visit.”

“Ah, friend, you have always seen far too
clearly.” Puck settled himself cross-legged in the air. “Would you
like to step over the boundary again, and bear a mortal upon your
back for a time?”

“It is no simple thing that you ask,” the
stag said, his voice deep and sonorous, like the tolling of a bell.
“Such things carry a price.”

“A price that will be paid. I bring you the
king’s word upon it.”

“Let me think upon it,” the stag said.

A light breeze bent the meadow grasses, and
the sunlight inched down the stones as the White Stag pondered.
Puck sat patiently, bobbing a little upon the air and amusing
himself by braiding and unbraiding the yarrow stalks in his hair.
It was no great concern of his if the stag answered yes or no,
although the great beast’s agreement would certainly enliven things
in the Realm, and beyond. If pressed, Puck would say that he was
always in favor of a bit of bedlam.

Finally, as a sunbeam touched the ivory tips
of the stag’s antlers, the beast replied.

“I shall do this thing,” he said.

At his words, a ripple spread out from the
standing stones and shivered through the Realm. The bargain was
struck. Puck grinned with anticipation.

“As it please you, come to the Bright Court
and the king will set you on the path. Farewell, gentle hart.”

“Be merry, wild sprite.”

With a great bound, Puck leaped over the
tallest stone and landed gracefully upon his riding owl. They
swooped away over the brightening meadows, leaving the stag alone
in the center of the stone circle, white as sorrow, pale as a
winter moon.

June 23

B
irdsong and waterfall woke Marny, along with a headache
buzzing behind her eyes and the hazy tatters of a dream nagging at
her. She shut off her alarm, which helped dial back the noise in
her head, and lay there, staring at the ceiling a moment. It was
important to pay attention to her dreams, Jennet had said. The
problem was, all she remembered was a sense of urgency, the sound
of bells, and some guy’s face.

She squinted, trying to recall his features.
Gray eyes, dark blond hair, and nice cheekbones. Too bad he didn’t
have an address flashing over his head. Had the dream been a
warning, or just the usual random stuff that happened when a person
was asleep?

Kicking off her covers, she got up and grimly
pulled on the same clothes she’d worn the day before. They were
still a little damp from her washing them out the night before, and
she grimaced at the feel of the blouse against her skin. It would
dry as she wore it, but not a fun way to start her morning. Her
duffel had better arrive, and soon.

As for the dream, she’d keep an eye out for a
gray-eyed blond guy, but that was about all she could do.

She stepped out of her room and met Anjah
coming out of the bathroom in a cloud of perfume-scented steam. The
other girl had a towel wrapped around her, and didn’t seem
self-conscious at all.

“Well.” Anjah looked her up and down. “Not
very creative in your wardrobe choices, are you?”

Marny tamped down her surge of annoyance.
Anjah was shallow and conceited, and there was no point in letting
that attitude spoil her own day.

“Maybe my luggage will show up today,” Marny
said. “Until then, it’s rather petty of you to make fun of my
nonexistent clothing options.”

Anjah’s cheeks colored. She didn’t say
anything, just gave a sharp sniff and stalked into her room,
closing the door loudly behind her. Good. Hopefully she was
embarrassed by her total lack of compassion—at least
temporarily.

There was no sign of Wil, and Marny was glad.
Stuck with an oaf and a princess for roomies. Welcome to the real
world.

And what did they think of her?

She shrugged. It didn’t matter, and it was
only for two months. Grabbing her tablet, she headed for the dining
room. Just because she lived with Wil and Anjah didn’t mean she had
any obligation to stick around and eat breakfast with them.

Halfway down the hall, she stopped. She’d
gotten blisters yesterday, and her heels were already screaming at
her in their new shoes. With a sigh, she turned back toward the
apartment to put on her Converse. Limping through the rest of her
day would be worse than getting a few funny looks because she was
wearing canvas high-tops. Besides, she didn’t think Intertech
wanted their carpets stained with a trail of her blood.

Luckily, Anjah hadn’t emerged from her room
again to make more catty remarks about Marny’s outfit. She shoved
her pretty-but-painful shoes into her closet, laced on her
high-tops, then hurried out again.

When she got to the dining room she paused by
the door, scanning the tables. She didn’t see anybody who matched
the face in her dream.

“Marny—over here!” It was Brenna, waving from
the side of the room.

Marny nodded and gestured to the
cafeteria-style line, indicating she’d get her food and then join
the liaison.

The breakfast offerings looked pretty decent.
She chose a thick slice of banana bread, for a moment mourning her
lost treat from home. Scrambled eggs, yogurt, and fruit rounded off
the meal, plus a too-small mug of Earl Grey tea. What was it with
these people and their fetish for tiny cups?