Spark - ARC (14 page)

“You need to practice?” He gave her a confused look. “You, Spark Jaxley?”

“Something like that.” She leaned forward to make sure Roc and Cora couldn’t see her face. It wouldn’t surprise her if they read lips. “Think you could help me figure out a way to get secret system time?”

His eyes brightened, and he tapped his lips with one finger. Niteesh was one sneaky kid, and between the two of them, Spark knew they could get her on a FullD. Vonda would probably help, too, although the more people who knew what Spark was up to, the harder it would be to keep secret. And to keep her own secrets about why, exactly, she needed to play Feyland during off hours.

“I got it,” Niteesh said. “We’ll tell Vonda we have to brush up our PVP skills, since we know the Terabins are going to keep trying to jump us.”

“But we both won our duels with them,” Spark said. “It’s not a good enough excuse.”

“Then tell her your interface is glitchy, and that’s why you had issues today. Because, I tell you, your play was clearly off.”

More lies. She was getting tired of them—but what could she do?

“Okay. I’ll go back and talk to Vonda.”

“If that doesn’t work, we can always break into the FullD trailer late at night, bring an auxiliary power source, and get you going that way.” He grinned and flexed his fingers. “I’m good with security codes.”

“Too dangerous. I’m sure VirtuMax has serious safeguards on those systems. Let me talk to Vonda, first, before we try anything too crazy.”

Though it could come to that. Her “glitchy interface” excuse would only work once, and Spark had a feeling she’d need a couple sessions in-game to get to the Dark Court.

Jennet had talked a little bit about when she’d first played Feyland. There were several levels the gamer had to complete, each one leading closer and closer to the court, until at last they faced the Dark Queen.

Spark had to win her way to the court and battle the queen in order to free whoever was trapped there. The thought sent a chill down her spine. How much worse was it for the poor gamer who had somehow stumbled into the Realm of Faerie? Even now they could be in terrible danger.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

A
ran followed Thomas down the dim path leading to the Dark Court. His fingers were cold, and he pulled the thick cloak closer about his shoulders. Not that a fancy new outfit could ease the chill he felt at the thought of standing before the Dark Queen again.

Thomas had come up with an intricate set of clothing for Aran to wear for his audience. The shirt and close-fitting pants were nice and basic, but the tooled leather boots and vest embroidered in indigo and silver were too gaudy for his taste. Still, he didn’t argue about putting them on. At least the dark blue cloak covered much of the vest, and he could live with the ornate pin holding it closed at his throat.

Thomas paused at the edge of the court clearing, his figure silhouetted by the eerie violet light of the bonfire.

“Any last-minute advice?” Aran asked. He tried to make the question cocky, though it came out a little scared.

“Speak but few words. The less you say, the less fuel you provide for the queen’s anger.”

“Right.”

At some point, Aran intended to find out why the queen was so mad. So far, Thomas had dodged his questions, claiming it wasn’t a good idea to discuss anywhere near the Dark Court.

“Show me your formal bow once again,” Thomas said.

“Are you sure it’s necessary?”

Although Aran thought of himself as fairly coordinated, the complex court bow Thomas had drilled into him was not an easy move to master.

“Yes.” There was no room for argument in Thomas’s tone.

With a deep breath, Aran swept back the cloak, then stepped forward onto his right foot. He dipped low, sweeping his right arm out, while his left went behind him for balance. When he started to straighten, Thomas tapped him on the back.

“Hold,” he said. “You may not rise until the queen gives you leave.”

“My leg is killing me.”

“’Tis not a matter for joking, BlackWing. More than your leg will be in pain, should you disrespect the queen.”

Aran gritted his teeth and held the position, ignoring the hot jabs of discomfort in his muscles. Yeah, he was a rebel, like Spark had said—but there were times when you played by the rules. Until you knew when, where, and how to break them.

“Rise,” Thomas said. “You are ready.”

Provided he didn’t fall flat on his face. Aran unbent and rocked back onto his heels, easing the tension from his body.

“Ready as I’ll be,” he said. “Lead on.”

As they stepped into the clearing, the babble of fey voices rose. The figures cavorting in front of the fire paused, watching him with avid gazes. At the far side of the clearing, a tall figure stood, his head crowned with antlers gilded silver by the distant moon. Lithe hounds curled, serpentine, around his feet. There was something incredibly creepy about him, and Aran averted his eyes.

Thomas led him past the banquet tables laid with food he couldn’t eat. Not that he’d want to—the silver goblets were filled with a heavy, dark red liquid that looked like blood, and the delicacies glowed with strange colors on their burnished plates.

Sweet, melancholy music twined through the clearing; a breathy flute accompanied by the solemn beat of a drum. The air held the whisper of a chill, more pronounced as they drew closer to the throne. Aran darted a glance at the queen, her terrible, beautiful face framed by hair black as midnight, soft as smoke.

Then they were before the tangled throne. Thomas swept into the court bow, and Aran followed, feeling clumsy. He remained bent over, barely breathing, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears.

“Bard Thomas, BlackWing, rise,” the queen said at last.

Aran cautiously straightened, careful not to meet her mesmerizing gaze. Instead, he watched the gossamer-winged faerie maidens clustered behind the throne. With their haunted eyes and pale skin, they looked as if they never smiled.

“Stand forward, BlackWing,” the queen commanded, “and tell me what you seek in the Realm of Faerie.”

Swallowing, he took a step toward the throne. Thomas stood at his shoulder, and Aran was grateful for the support. Even though they didn’t trust one another, Thomas was a decent guy.

“Address her formally,” the bard whispered to him as Aran opened his mouth.

Right. He paused a moment, considering what to say.

“Your majesty—I’m here because the goblin told me this is where I’d be able to see what lies behind Feyland. That’s what I want.”

Beside him, Thomas drew in a sharp breath.

“Are you satisfied with what you have found?” the queen asked, a bite of laughter in her voice.

“Not exactly.”

He never would have guessed actual magic underlay the sim game of Feyland. How was a guy supposed to hack that? Learn a bunch of spells? It was ridiculous, in a horrible kind of way.

“You are a mortal skilled in the use of this so-called game and its interface, are you not?”

“I guess.” Not that he’d had much of a chance to play Feyland.

The Dark Queen smiled, and Aran blinked at the way the clearing lightened, as if dusted with starlight. Her deep eyes were filled with mystery, and he swayed, dizzy from the force of her expression.

“Steady,” Thomas said in an undertone, catching his arm.

Aran yanked his gaze back down to the deep green moss underfoot and pulled in a steadying breath. The queen’s laughter sifted over him, light as chiming bells.

“Ah, I forget how easily you mortals are undone,” she said. “I have a challenge for you, BlackWing. I greatly desire to open my realm more fully to the human world—and to do this, I need someone who understands the inner workings of Feyland.”

“Wait.” Aran blinked. “You want me to hack into the real world from here, using Feyland?”

“Just so.” Her voice softened, melting like honey around his senses. “Can you do this thing for me?”

Half of him wanted to say yes to her, yes to anything she asked. But he’d learned caution in the most painful way possible.

“Is that a good idea?” he asked. “For us humans, I mean.”

Thomas squeezed his arm, but the queen was clearly displeased by his answer. Eyes glittering like diamonds, she leaned forward. Aran hadn’t noticed before how long and deadly looking her fingernails were.

“Do you dare to question me?” Her voice was a cold blade slicing the air.

“My lady,” Thomas said. “He is not your subject, to command as you please. And if you recall, he is but newly come to the realm. Forgive him for his brashness.”

The queen’s eyes narrowed, and she sat back. Aran let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Although I owe you no explanation, mortal,” she said, “know that the Realm of Faerie will wither and die if the gate is not opened. And you shall be well rewarded. Wealth and power are within your grasp. Only do this one thing for me.”

Aran curled his chilled fingers into his palms. Somehow, he didn’t think reverse-hacking his way into the human world was going to be simple. But he also suspected he didn’t have a choice.

“What good will wealth and power do me, here?” he asked, glancing to the creatures clustered about the throne. The goblin, Codcadden, grinned, showing his pointed teeth.

Aran didn’t want to boss faeries around, plus he didn’t think they’d take orders from a human all that well. The things he wanted weren’t found in the Realm of Faerie. Or maybe anywhere. He was smart enough to know that most of them couldn’t be bought, either.

“The boy speaks truly,” Thomas said. “One of his payments must be a return to the mortal realm.”

“If he is able to prove himself, he shall reap the rewards,” the queen said. “And if not, then you shall have an apprentice, Thomas. Forever.”

The finality in her words made Aran’s gut turn to ice. This just got worse and worse.

“I’ll want payment in gold,” he said. “And I’m going to need some gear.” Though he had no idea what.

The Dark Queen waved her hand. “Agreed. Bard Thomas shall equip you as necessary. I expect you to succeed in this, mortal boy.”

“I will.”

Despite having no clue how to accomplish what the queen wanted, failure wasn’t an option. Aran looked at Thomas’s weary face, the sorrow lying heavy in his eyes.

No way was Aran going to spend eternity trapped in the Realm of Faerie.

***

“Thanks, Vonda,” Spark said as the road crew finished hooking up her FullD system.

It took up most of the space in her hotel room, wedged between the bed and wall, but she wasn’t planning on sleeping much, anyway. She had a lot of simming to do.

During their takeout dinner, she’d convinced her manager to let her use the sim system to “work out the glitches” for the upcoming demos. Vonda had given her a funny look, but gave Spark permission to use a FullD for the evening.

“Get your mojo back,” Vonda said. “We load out at noon tomorrow. That’s all the sim time I can give you.”

“How far is it to the next gig?”

“Four hours. You’re on for the demo at six tonight, and I want you fresh and on your game, all right?” Vonda pointed at her.

“Yes, ma’am.” Spark saluted.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

“Mhm.”

“Good night then.” Vonda rolled her eyes as she shut the door, clearly understanding that Spark had made no promises.

Spark threw the deadbolt, checked to make sure the windows were locked and the curtains shut tight, then fired up her system. She didn’t relish the thought of an all-night marathon, but she might not get another chance to enter Feyland unobserved.

On the other hand, she couldn’t totally stint on sleep, or it would show during the demo appearances. She couldn’t afford any more slips, not with the Terabins waiting for her to falter.

One thing at a time. Her first job was to get in-game and help whoever had inadvertently stumbled into the Realm of Faerie.

She put on the helmet and gloves and activated Feyland. At the character screen, she paused. Should she make a new avatar, one better suited to solo questing?

She hovered over the description of the Knight, then shook her head. Straightforward melee fighting had never been her style. Plus she’d already mastered a few of her Kitsune’s tricks. Better to play a familiar class. If that didn’t work, she could start over with a new character. As if she had time to do that.

Before she could waste more time second-guessing, Spark flicked her fingers in the command to enter game. Spinning golden light enfolded her, and for once she welcomed the queasy sensation. She’d been worried that Feyland wouldn’t take her into the realm, but the feeling of transitioning out of the real world was unmistakable.

A moment later, she stood in the familiar sunlit clearing. Everything looked the same, except for one key difference. The mushrooms in the faerie ring encircling her were pale white, the color of moonlight. Proof that she was on the way to the Dark Court.

She checked that her weapons were in place, then strode down the path. The branches of the white-barked trees interlaced above her head, sending a lattice of shadows across the soft moss. Bright orange butterflies flickered in and out of shafts of sunlight, and the whole forest seemed peaceful and serene.