“Puck, are you sure?” Now Jennet was the one who sounded uncertain. “I don’t think we’re ready. There are more layers to go through, aren’t there? Like the Dark Forest and the Fey Fields—”
“The land is ever-changing,” Puck said. “The roads you once traveled have shifted, and the places laid by Thomas the Bard are all but gone. The Realm returns to its own.”
Jennet looked worried. “So, you’re taking us to the Black Knight, who will take us to the Queen?”
“Jennet.” Tam set his hand on her shoulder. “This is it, right? Boss fight? Isn’t that the whole point of the game?”
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how the faeries operate. It’s never straightforward.” She pressed her lips together. “We’re not ready. There are things about that fight - things you need to know.”
Puck was watching them, head cocked to one side. “Ah, Fair Jennet. How is it that you have not told your knight what exactly happened when the queen defeated you? Why have you not described the bounds of that battle, and its consequences?”
“I thought,” she sounded suddenly very unsure. “I thought we’d have more time. I was going to explain everything, as soon as we got out today.”
“What?” Tam stared at her, feeling like the ground had tilted under his feet. “Jennet - didn’t you think that information might come in handy? Sooner, rather than later?”
“I…” She stood with her head bowed.
The lantern light glowed golden in her hair. For an instant, his dreams of the Dark Queen receded. He remembered the odd stillness he had first noticed about Jennet. Her paleness, that waxed and waned like the moon. There was an otherworldly quality about her - but he had gotten used to it. Had practically stopped seeing it. And then his mom was back and, well, he should have paid more attention.
“Jennet,” he said. He couldn’t help the edge in his tone.
“Yes?” Her voice was thin.
Damn, he hoped she wasn’t going to start crying on him. Not that it would change the questions he needed to ask.
“Children,” Puck said, “We have no time for this. The Knight is holding a doorway open. We must not wait, or it will be too late to leave the goblin’s kingdom.”
“All right.” Jennet turned away from him and headed down the tunnel. Puck danced at her heels and sent him a mischievous look.
“But…” He was talking to empty air. Fine. He vanished the lantern and stalked after them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jennet hurried forward, barely noticing the rock walls on either side. Why hadn’t she been more honest with Tam?
Ok, she knew why. Secrecy was a hard habit to break. And she hadn’t wanted to frighten him off by revealing the price she’d paid. Besides, Thomas had told Tam that her energy was being taken by the Queen. She hadn’t explained any further, and right after that they had run for their lives from the Wild Hunt, so maybe that bit of info had gotten lost. Plus, the right opportunity had never seemed to present itself.
There was another reason, too. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but she had made a few stupid moves. If Tam knew how badly she had lost to the queen, he could lose all respect for her. His good opinion mattered. Had mattered for a while, more than she wanted to admit. She could imagine the contempt in his eyes when she told him - so she hadn’t.
And now it could cost her everything.
“This way,” Puck said, tugging on her inside-out robe to get her attention. “The Black Knight awaits us.”
She looked up, realizing that she had marched right past another, smaller, tunnel with a purplish glow emanating from it. The thought of meeting the Dark Queen again made her whole body go cold. Her chest ached, and she recalled with sudden clarity the queen’s delicate fingertips holding a crystal sphere. Those star-filled eyes had held hers, the queen had declared victory, and searing pain had ripped through her.
Jennet took a quick breath. “I really don’t think the queen and I—”
“Come on.” Tam had caught up. “Much as I wish we’d talked strategy, didn’t Thomas say we needed to do this as quickly as possible?”
There wasn’t anything she could say to that. She pressed her lips together as Tam brushed past, one hand on his sword hilt. Did he have to be so drastically courageous about everything?
Well, that was why she had chosen him. It was just - they weren’t ready, either of them, to face the queen. It was too late now, though. Swallowing back her dread, Jennet vanished her cheery lantern and summoned her staff. The blue light pulsed oddly against the purple glow in the tunnel. Tam and Puck had gotten a few yards ahead, but she couldn’t make her feet go any faster.
In fact, it seemed as if the glow was pressing against her. After several steps, she felt like she was moving through syrup. She couldn’t hear anything, but ahead she saw that Tam and Puck had stopped in front of a glowing purple portal. The magical doorway was held open by the menacing figure of the Black Knight. He stood straddling the portal, one black-armored foot planted on the tunnel floor, the other set on a starlit hill. And behind him...
The Dark Queen.
Jennet couldn’t breathe - until she realized that she wasn’t the focus of that beautifully dangerous gaze. Tam was.
The queen smiled. High up in the air, faint frosty music played, borne by an invisible breeze. Her midnight hair stirred about her face, and she slowly reached her hand out. As if in a daze, Tam lifted his own.
“No!” Jennet pushed her staff through the thick air and sent a bolt hurtling toward the doorway.
It hit the purple light and sent up a shower of sparks. Puck leaped into the air and gave her an accusing look, then bounded across the threshold and disappeared. The Black Knight slowly lifted his foot from the rock floor.
Tam turned, a frown creasing the corners of his mouth. “Jennet, what the—”
“Don’t go with her.”
“I wasn’t—”
Too late. It was a brush of sorrowful melody, breathed through the half-open doorway. Underneath it, Jennet could hear ice. She shivered.
Tam turned, but the portal was closing quickly.
“Wait,” he called. There was something painful and yearning in his voice that Jennet pretended not to hear.
They watched in silence as the doorway shrank to a thin, purple line. Then it was gone. In the light of her staff, Tam’s face looked pale and young. She didn’t like it - didn’t like him looking so lost and vulnerable. He was supposed to be the strong one, the heroic knight, not the one who needed saving.
“Why did you do that?” he asked. “We could have…”
“What? Met the queen on ground of her own choosing and lost right away? Or let her lead you over the hills while the Black Knight lopped my head off? Something about that setup wasn’t right, Tam.”
He shook his head, but not like he disagreed. More as though he was trying to clear his thoughts.
“Maybe.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Now what? Puck took off. We get to wander around until the goblins find us again?”
“We can’t stay here.” She waved at the blank rock wall facing them. “Didn’t Puck say something about finding the way out?”
“He said follow the stairway. I haven’t seen any stairs though. Have you?”
“Not yet. But faeries can’t lie. They can bend and twist the truth, or make you hear what you want to believe. But if Puck said there’s a stairway, then there must be one.”
“Good. I’m getting pretty tired of these caves.” His hair had fallen back over his face.
Jennet started forward, not bothering to make some cheerful remark. Either they would get out, or the goblins would find and eat them.
At the place where their tunnel connected to the bigger one, she paused. Had they come from the left, or the right? All she remembered was pushing through purple light.
Tam came up beside her. He had re-summoned his armor, and it was a relief t
o see him ready for battle.
“Which way?” she asked.
He glanced both directions, frowning. “Wait a sec. Do you hear something?”
She held her breath. A faint sound, like dripping water or music, came from their right. “Yes. Let’s follow it.”
They walked quietly. The plunk and splash of single notes, single drops of water, grew louder, until it wasn’t a hopeful echo in her ears, but something real and solid. It was both water and music, and soon the notes became a melody - something she almost recognized.
Tam leaned closer, keeping his voice soft. “Is that an old ballad or something?”
“An old song, anyway.”
The name of it teased her memory. With each step, the tune grew louder and more familiar. When she finally remembered, she almost laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s a song called Stairway to Heaven. Thomas used to play it. In fact, that’s probably him up ahead.” For the first time since they ended up in the Goblin Kingdom, she felt like they were safe. Almost safe, anyway.
“Puck.” Tam made a face. “Follow the stairway. Right.”
Ahead, the tunnel grew lighter. In a few moments they stepped into another cavern. She sucked in her breath at the beauty of it. Delicate white stalactites draped from the roof. To one side, a bright blue pool of water reflected a ball of glowing light drifting in the center of the room. Music swelled and surrounded them, guitar notes played by a figure sitting on a pale boulder.
“Thomas!” she said. “I was right.”
The bard smiled at her and finished the last run of notes. “Well met, Jennet.” His expression sobered when he looked at Tam. “Tamlin. Beware the enticement of the Dark Queen. She weaves a shroud of enchantment that’s nigh impossible to break.”
Tam shifted, but didn’t reply.
Thomas sighed. “What day is it in your world?”
“Just the twentieth,” Jennet said. “We were here yesterday. Plenty of time still.”
“I hope it is so.” The bard’s deep gaze rested on her a long moment. “The next time you enter the world, you will be at the edge of the Dark Court. Do not tarry. You must defeat the queen and reclaim what is yours, before the gateway opens.”
“Yes, you’ve told us that before.” Tam folded his arms. “Got any ideas about how to defeat the queen? And what about making sure the door stays locked from our side?”
“Magic has a treacherous nature,” Thomas said. “Coming from the mortal world as I do, I know little of it, nor the how.”
“Some help you are.”
“Hey.” Jennet took a step forward. Why did Tam always get so irritated around Thomas? “He’s helping us the best he can.”
“The two of you must depart,” Thomas said. “There is a faerie ring in the back of this cave that will take you home. But you must promise me that you will speak together. There are things each of you knows that are of great import.”
Tam gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Like the details of a certain defeat at the hands of the Dark Queen. Little stuff like that.”
“All right.” She swallowed the dry fear in her throat. No putting it off any longer.
“Fare well, brave adventurers,” Thomas said. He set his fingers on his guitar again, played a flourishing chord, and disappeared.
“Thomas….” She was talking to an uninhabited boulder.
“Come on.” Tam jerked his head toward the back of the cave. “I can’t wait to hear your explanation.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jennet lifted the gaming helm. She felt woozy from the passage back through the golden light.
“Well.” Tam had unhooked from the system already. He stood beside her chair, arms folded. “I’m ready for that explanation.”
“Give me a minute. Jeez.” She sat up, then clambered out of the chair, on the opposite side from where he waited. “Want some tea? We could heat some water—”
“No. Talk.”
There was no avoiding it. She let out a slow breath, then went across the room and perched on the couch in the sitting area. Tam slouched down in a chair across from her.
“All right,” she began, but no more words would come out.
She pressed her lips together until they stung. Her stomach felt like she had swallowed a mouthful of that disorienting light. Tam just watched her from behind his hair, his green eyes wary. God, she hated how this was going to feel. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it across her middle.
“Ok,” she tried again. “You know the kids with chips, the rich ones….”
The silence stretched between them, until he spoke. “The ones like you?”
“Yes.” She squirmed inside. Time to lay it all out. “The snobs, the bullies, the privileged. The ones who will kick you for being a loser, the ones who know everyone else is worthless. Those kids. Exactly like me.”
He frowned, though it wasn’t directed at her. “You’re not—”
“I was, though. Before.” She drew in a deep breath.
“Before what?”
“Before we moved here. Before I lost to the queen. I was arrogant, just like that. I thought that appearance mattered more than what was inside. I mean, I knew better, a part of me did, but when you’re surrounded by it…” She squeezed the pillow tighter. “Well, thinking like that becomes as natural as breathing. There was a kid at our school - and you need to know that it was a much richer school than the one here - anyway, she was so obviously poor, such a misfit. We made fun of her, all the time, of her raggedy clothes and hair that stuck out all over the place. She was different, and that made us, the privileged, that much tighter. Does that make sense?”
He nodded. That thoughtful expression was back on his face. At least he didn’t look like he hated her. Yet.
“What happened to her?” he asked.
“Nothing too dire, if that’s what you’re thinking. But we treated her badly, in lots of little ways. She was still there when I left. Maybe things are better now, since I told the teachers and admins about the bullying before I moved.”
“So - what does this have to do with losing to the queen?”
Jennet swallowed. “Thomas warned me about being unkind, but it’s a hard habit to break. Anyway, when I started playing Feyland, there was this little hob-type creature. Raggedy clothes and hair that stuck out all crazy-like. She kept showing up asking for my help, but she wasn’t acting like a quest-giver or anything.”
Tam sat up a little straighter. “So you refused?”
Regret burned through her. “I wish I could go back and change that. It was only little things she needed. Sweeping out a cottage. Hanging some clothes. Fetching water from a well. It would have been easy to do, but I blew her off.”
“Three times?”
“Three. Yes, the magic number. Because she was odd and poor and even in-game seemed worthless.”
“Like the girl in real life.” He shook his head. “Like me.”
“No! Not like you. Tam, I—”
“You found a poor boy who would be easy to use, huh? A loser.” His expression hardened into dislike - for her? For himself?
“It’s not like that!” She flung the pillow on the floor. Leaning forward, she grabbed his hands. He didn’t pull away. “No. Not a loser. I found the best gamer in the school, who turned out to be a pretty decent guy.”
He met her gaze, the hard look in his eyes easing. The feel of his hands in hers tingled through her. After a long moment he cleared his throat and sat back, slipping free.
“So. Your fight with the queen.”
She fished the pillow off the floor, but didn’t hug it again. “It wasn’t a normal kind of battle. Even then, I could tell things were getting odd in the game. Anyway, it started out with fighting. I was zapping the queen with my staff, and she was casting these dark spheres that floated around and protected her while doing damage to my character. But then things changed.”
The memory was hard to catch hold of, a hazy
wisp of half-dreaming. There had been stars and a gibbous moon, and a silver goblet full of dark, perfumed liquid that she had almost, almost sipped.
“Changed?” Tam prompted.
“We weren’t battling any more. We were sitting together at a high table, and the queen asked me a riddle. I tried, but… I couldn’t answer it.”
“Do you remember what it was?”
She folded her hands into fists. The problem was, she had been trying for months to forget the whole thing. “She told me the answer at the end - it was Life.”
“Ok.” He gave her a cautious look. “What happened next?”
Jennet closed her eyes, pulling the memory up from deep shadows. “The queen smiled at me, a terrible, beautiful smile. She beckoned to a figure in the shadows, and there was the pathetic hob-creature. Show your true form, my handmaiden, the queen said, and the creature shuffled forward. She transformed, right in front of me, into a beautiful faerie maid.” Jennet shivered. “She laughed at me. Laughed and said that my own arrogance and blindness had cost me dearly. If I had helped her, she would have helped me in turn to solve the queen’s riddle. But I had not. And so I lost.”
Lost. Lost. The word echoed in her mind. She kept her eyes closed, hoping Tam didn’t hate her.
He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was sober. “You lost. And not just the game.”
“No.” She made herself open her eyes, but kept her gaze fixed on the plum-colored upholstery. “The queen said a part of me was now forfeit to Feyland. She inscribed some glowing runes in the air, and there was this ripping cold. Next thing I knew, I was out of the game. I was really sick - spent a week in the hospital. The doctors called it ‘summer pneumonia,’ as if they had any clue. And…” Her voice trembled, but she had to say this next part. “I think Thomas must have figured out what happened. I think he went in to get that part of me back, and ended up trapped forever. Not only did I lose, I… I was responsible for his death.”
Grief hit her, hard and sudden, like a punch to the stomach. She curled up and gasped from it. Tears of regret, of blame and loss, etched down her cheeks.
“Hey, shh. Hey there.” Tam was suddenly beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his hand stroking her hair.
He didn’t tell her everything was all right - they both knew that wasn’t true. He didn’t tell her not to blame herself, or to stop crying. He just was there, accepting. Somehow that made it easier to bear.