Feyland: The Bright Court

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tam flinched inside his sleeping bag. Something was pinching him.

“Bug,” he mumbled, “go back to bed and leave me alone.”

“Bold Tamlin,” a high voice piped, “you must wake. Trouble is afoot in the Realm of Faerie.”

Puck! Tam sat upright, the dozy warmth of sleep doused by icy realization. If Puck were here, something was wrong. Provided it really was the sprite, and not some weird dream-fragment. Tam rubbed his eyes. Anxiety clenched his gut when he saw Puck hovering, cross-legged, beside his sleeping bag.

“What is it?” Tam whispered. “And keep your voice down, or you’ll wake my family.”

He glanced over at the blanket-covered lump of the Bug, asleep on the couch. The kid was still snoring.

“Fair Jennet requires aid,” Puck whispered. “The king has brought her to his court - and does not intend to let her go.”

“What? How?” Cold fear sliced through him. “Was she in-game? What time is it?”

The clock in the kitchen shed a greenish glow, and he squinted at the numbers. 1:43. Awfully late for Jennet to be simming.

“She did not enter Feyland by the usual route,” the sprite said. “The king took her from her bed.”

Crap. This was beyond severe.

“How do I get her back?” Keeping one eye on Puck, he started pulling on his clothes.

The sprite cocked his head, his eyes glinting. “That is for you to determine, Tamlin. I merely bring warning. Good luck - and farewell.”

“Wait!” Tam hissed, reaching for the sprite.

Too late. There was only empty air where Puck had been, and the faint echo of chiming bells. Damn, damn, damn.

“Tam?” The Bug turned over. “I heard a thing.”

“Shh, go back to sleep. I’m just going to the bathroom.”

He grabbed his pack and retreated to the bathroom. It was dim and cramped - but private. Tam grabbed the taped-together flashlight from under the sink and clicked it on, ignoring the scuttle of bugs away from the light.

When he’d made his bargain with the Dark Queen, Jennet had saved him by using the words of an old ballad. It was time for him to return the favor - and the only instructions he had for dealing with the Realm of Faerie were in her book.

The back section of Tales of Folk and Faerie held ballads and scraps of tales that were hundreds of years old. He paged through, his heart giving a jolt at the one titled Tam Lin. No - that story had already played out. He needed something different, something about a girl taken by the faeries.

The Golden Ball - no. The Fish and the Ring - not at all. He was running out of pages. Forcing himself to go slowly, he went back and scanned the text as well as the titles.

 Midway through the section, the words Open from within, let me in, let me in, jumped out at him with a shock of recognition. One of the rhymes he and Jennet had said to open the door under the hill. This had to be it.

He went to the top of the page and read the title. Childe Rowland - a tale he’d just skimmed over before. The weak flashlight beam wavered across the page. Taking a deep breath, Tam began to read.

 ***

 For once, the stars were out from behind the clouds, and a thin moon illuminated the frost-covered city. It had taken him almost an hour to get up to the gates of The View. Tam breathed into his hands in an effort to un-numb them. His gloves were half holes, and didn’t do much against the cold.