Spark - ARC (13 page)

*Guardian of the balance. You are called.*

Oh, crap. She’d wondered how the Elder Fey would communicate with them if the Feyguard were needed. But right now—in the middle of a demo?

She desperately hoped the watching crowd couldn’t see her. If they did, there would be way too much explaining to do. She had to trust that the Elder Fey knew what they were doing.

“Called where?” The words were dry in her throat. “What am I supposed to do?”

*A mortal has entered the Dark Court. You must free him.*

Worry cracked through her. This was it—she’d been called up as a Feyguard and she had no idea what to do. Tam and Jennet were the experts on the Realm of Faerie. She’d only been there once, and the memory still woke her at night, dreams of ice and blackness that left her shivering.

“Free him—by myself? How do I get there?”

*The usual way.* The voice held dry amusement, and a hint of exasperation, like a parent speaking to a child.

Fair enough, she supposed. If being a Feyguard were easy, everyone would be doing it.

“What am I supposed to—”

*Enough. Perform your duties, and do not bestir us again from our dreaming.*

“Wait!” She stretched out her hand, though there was nothing to catch.

The purple landscape flared, then dissolved. Spark doubled over, aching as though someone had punched her in the gut. Velvet-green mosses blurred in her vision.

“You okay?” Niteesh’s voice was concerned as his hand gripped her elbow.

She swallowed back nausea and straightened. No matter how wretched she felt, she could give no sign that she’d just… what? Been ripped out of reality for a few moments?

“I’m fine.”

She darted a look around the clearing. Cora stood outside the circle, watching them impatiently, and Spark could see Roc’s figure disappearing through the trees. Apparently only a few heartbeats had passed.

“Your avatar disappeared for a sec,” Niteesh said. “It was weird.”

“It’s nothing.” Spark shook her hair back from her face. “Let’s go.”

Niteesh tipped his head, and she strode past him, unwilling to meet his eyes. The kid was too smart. Even if nobody else suspected anything, he would. Though the truth was so tweaked as to be un-guessable.

Yeah, otherworldly creatures just pulled me into a different dimension, where they put me on the clock and gave me obscure instructions.

The rest of the demo game was a blur. She fought decently, and didn’t say much as the four VirtuMax gamers completed a quest series. Roc and Cora seemed happy to hog the spotlight, but Niteesh kept giving her worried looks.

Still, showing off her skills in a simulated game was trivial compared to what had just happened.

She had to get to the Dark Court “the usual way,” which meant via Feyland. And clearly she couldn’t go jaunting off while in demo. Somehow she’d have to figure out a way to sneak onto the FullD. And she needed to message Jennet and Tam as soon as possible, though she had a sinking feeling they hadn’t been called up by the Elder Fey. Still, they’d have some ideas. But it basically came down to one thing.

Someone was trapped in the Realm of Faerie, and it was up to her to rescue them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A
ran woke, the scent of mint and cinnamon in his nose instead of the musty smell of the Chowney’s garage. Above him, the unfamiliar, bright stars shone through the opening in the tent peak. It felt like morning, despite the night sky overhead. He stretched, the covers silky against his skin, then got out of bed.

The plush rug welcomed his bare feet, and the air was warm enough to be comfortable. He pulled on his jeans, then bit back a yelp as something dug painfully into the arch of his left foot. He bent and felt around on the carpet until the hard, ridged object met his fingers. It took a few yanks to get it out of the silky strands of the rug, as if the thing had been cocooned.

Aran held it up, then blinked in disbelief. It was a cheap plastic dragon toy—the kind that came in kid’s fast food meals. The bright orange plastic shone, as garishly out of place as a neon sign in a candle-lit dining hall. No question it had come from the mortal world, but how?

The events of yesterday were blurry, but he chased the memory down. Something the Dark Queen had said about a troublesome mortal child. Aran wasn’t the first visitor here, and the confirmation of it made the skin between his shoulder blades prickle. What had happened to that kid?

And did he even want to know?

He shrugged on his sweatshirt, suddenly chilled, then slipped the plastic toy into his pocket. It felt good to have a piece of his own world to carry around.

Pulling aside the crimson curtain, he stepped into the main room of the tent. Thomas sat at a table set along one wall, writing with a feather pen on what looked like parchment.

“Good day,” Thomas said.

“Is it?”

“An intriguing question.” Thomas set his pen down and nodded to an empty wicker chair. “Sit, and we will discuss it.”

Aran swung the chair around and sat backwards, resting his arms along the woven willow top. “We have a lot more than that to discuss.”

“Indeed. But it is a start. Tea?”

“Sure.”

Thomas picked up a green teapot and poured a stream of pale gold liquid into a matching cup. The steam swirling over the surface carried the scents that had woken Aran; cinnamon and mint. He took a careful sip, and the tea spread through his mouth, tasting like a perfect summer day.

“Cake?” Thomas pushed a deep blue plate filled with biscuit-like pastries toward him. “I will, however, caution you to eat no bite nor sip no sup outside the confines of these walls.”

The guy had the oddest way of talking, but Aran could follow him. More or less. He reached for one of the cakes.

“Why’s that?”

“Let us begin with your initial inquiry.” Thomas gave him a thoughtful look. “Is it, indeed, a good day? Firstly, whether goodness favors your mood is entirely up to you. And for the second part, it is not, in fact, day—a detail I commend you for noticing.”

“So, when does the sun come up? Does this place run on a super-extended clock or something?”

“In all the time you bide here it will never be day, for this is the Dark Court, where midnight and moonlight hold sway.”

Aran wrapped his hands around his teacup, trying to push away the chill brought on by Thomas’s words.

“I have a feeling I’m going to miss the sun,” he said.

Even though it was winter in the mortal world, at least the sun was
there
—a glowing ball of fire lurking behind the clouds. Endless night was going to get stale pretty quick.

“Of a certainty, you will long for the daylight,” Thomas said, his voice laced with old sorrow. “I do.”

“So, how’d you get here? And can you ever leave?”

The questions left a sour taste in Aran’s mouth, and he took another hasty drink of tea. Was he trapped here, like those tiny fairies in the lanterns, unable to escape?

Escape to what?
a cynical voice inside him asked.
No money, a useless attraction to a gamer girl, and every step overshadowed by the black cloud of a criminal record?

“Answers for answers,” Thomas said. “First, we need something to call you by.”

“My name’s Ar—”

“Stop.” Thomas held up his hand. “Names have power here. Is there a name—not your birth-given one—you go by in the mortal world?”

“BlackWing.”

It was somehow fitting to claim his hacker identity here. And it wasn’t like anyone would recognize it.

“Good.” Thomas lifted a cake from the plate. “Mortals who eat or drink in the Realm of Faerie are trapped here. Only the food I serve you is free of that binding enchantment.”

Aran studied his cake. He had no reason not to trust Thomas. With a shrug, he took a bite. It was honey-sweet and warm, as if freshly out of the oven. He finished the cake in three bites, then snagged another.

“Is that what happened to you?” he asked. “Ate something you shouldn’t have?”

“No.”

“Then you could go back, if you wanted?”

Thomas gave a low, weary sigh. “I cannot. There is nothing for me to return to. Tell me, why did the goblins bring you here, to the Dark Queen?”

Aran swallowed the last bite of cake, then took a sip of tea, buying time while he thought. There was plenty he didn’t want to say—and plenty he guessed Thomas wasn’t telling him, either.

“It sounds strange, but I met the goblin in a computer game.”

“Feyland, I suppose?” Something flashed across Thomas’s expression, a momentary easing of the anxious lines in his face.

“Yeah.” Aran narrowed his eyes. “How’d you know that?”

“Feyland and the Realm of Faerie are connected.”

“That’s just… tweaked.” Aran set his cup down and folded his arms along the back of the chair. Crazy as it was, though, the evidence was all around him. “Care to tell me how that happened?”

“Another time, perhaps. Your audience with the queen draws nigh. If I am to aid you, I must understand why you are here.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t quite understand it myself.”

He wasn’t going to tell Thomas he’d been trying to hack Feyland. He had a feeling the bard wouldn’t think too highly of that idea.

Thomas firmed his lips and studied Aran with a look that made him feel like a disobedient child.

“Look.” Aran unfolded his arms and stood. “I just want something better out of life. I was given an opportunity, and I took it. I didn’t know it would bring me here.”

“Do you wish to return to the mortal world?”

“Not at the moment, no. So, what do I need to do to get ready to see the queen?”

He’d take one thing, one minute, at a time. It was the only way to cope when life got complicated. Thinking too much caused a crazy whirlwind in his brain that could suck him under—that
had
sucked him under, in the past. Those first few months in juvie had been nothing but panic and fear. It had taken too long for him to get his bearings, to pull himself together, and he was never making that mistake again. Never.

***

Spark signed autographs and posed for pictures, but the whole time her mind clamored with questions. At last the game center event ended, and she hurried back to the bus. Tucking herself into the back corner seat, she pulled out her messager. First priority was talking to Tam and Jennet.

Tam, as usual, didn’t answer, but Jennet responded right away.

:How’s the tour going?:
she asked.

:Crazy. The Elder Fey contacted me in-game and told me I’m supposed to rescue someone from the Dark Realm.:

:What?!:

:I know. Have you guys been playing Feyland? Did they get in touch with you and Tam?:
Spark tried not to hold her breath for the answer.

:We were in-game earlier today. Nothing unusual happened.:

:I don’t want to do this alone.:
Spark chewed on her lower lip.
:You and Tam are the ones with experience.:

:Maybe that’s why they didn’t ask us. The game’s releasing now. If we’re all helping the same person, who’s on call when other people get in trouble?:

Jennet was right, though Spark didn’t like it. She’d seen the danger and power of the Dark Queen, but unlike her friends, Spark had never faced her in direct combat. At least, not solo. It had taken seven of them fighting together, plus a powerful talisman, to defeat her last time. Also, Spark’s memory of that battle was a little hazy, since she’d been a fox during key moments.

The bus swayed as the rest of the VirtuMax team climbed on. Niteesh headed toward her, a determined look on his face. He was going to ask her what was going on, and she had no idea what to tell him.

:I gotta go,:
she typed.

:Talk again soon,:
Jennet replied.
:I’ll see what Tam thinks.:

Spark turned off her messager. Lucky Jennet, to have somebody to share things with.

“Hey,” she said as Niteesh took the seat next to her.

“Is for horses,” he said. “What’s going on with you?”

“Off day. It happens.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” When she didn’t reply, he squinched his lips together. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“If I could, I would.” She hoped he believed her. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate the only friend she had on the tour.

He gazed at her, his eyes bright, then shrugged.

“Whatever. So, what happened to your clothes?”

“What do you think?” Spark shot a look to the front of the bus, where Roc and Cora sprawled, taking up a row of seats each.

“Thought so,” Niteesh said. “But I’m here now to watch your back.”

“And vice-versa. They don’t love you any better.”

The bus glided into motion, and Spark stared out the window as the parking lot of the gaming center slid away.

“Yeah, but I’m just a little kid,” Niteesh said, a note of irony in his voice. “You’re the real competition. Keep your edge, though—don’t make it easy for them.”

Spark let out a sigh that misted the window glass.

“I know, I was distracted in there.” By otherworldly creatures giving her cryptic instructions. “In order to focus, I need some more time in-game.”