Feyland: The First Adventure (5 page)

Forcing her hands to a steadiness she didn’t feel, Jennet sent another Fireball at the closest one, then turned and ran.

The creatures were gaining—the rasp of their breathing scraped the air behind her. She put on a burst of speed to keep from getting a spear in the back, then pivoted and fired a blue bolt of arcane energy at her closest pursuer.

He halted, grunted, then slowly folded over. Before he hit the ground, his body disappeared. The other two bogle’s bodies were gone, too.

Which left one angry bogle still at her heels. Jennet tilted her staff, ready to cast another Fireball, but she’d misjudged. The last bogle was too close, the wicked barbs of his weapon thrusting right for her head.

Heart pounding, she ducked, reflexively raising her staff. Metal met wood with a jar she felt down to her shoulders. The bogle grunted, then pulled his pike back, ready for another jab.

Jennet danced back and sent the glowing orb of a Fireball toward her opponent. The bogle leaped out of the way, then rushed her, his sharp teeth glinting in a cruel smile.

Grabbing the end of her staff with both hands, Jennet swung it like a baseball bat, putting all her strength behind the blow. The bogle’s eyes went wide at her unexpected move, and he couldn’t get his pike up in time to block her attack.

Her staff connected with his leather armor, then kept going, meeting no resistance as her final foe disappeared. The force of her swing pulled her around in a half-circle, and she staggered, finally catching her balance.

The field was empty of bogles.

She’d done it—though not as gracefully as she might have liked. Triumphant music drifted through the air as the inhabitants of the tiny village hurried toward her. Their delicate faces were smiling, and the leader carried a heavy sack.

“Bold adventurer,” he said, bowing to her. “You saved our village. We can never repay you—but please take these gold coins as a token of our gratitude.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, taking the sack.

The moment it was in her hands, it disappeared with a clinking sound. Curious, she toggled open her game interface to see that she now had one hundred gold coins in her inventory. Nice. No doubt they would come in handy.

“Will you take word of your victory to the forest camp?” the leader asked, gesturing to a small road leading away from the village. “Our kin there will be glad to hear of it.”

“Sure,” Jennet said. The NPC continued to look at her, so she changed her wording. “I will.”

This time, the man nodded to her, and she heard the chime that signaled she’d accepted a new quest.

“Be careful on your travels,” the leader said. “Many dangerous creatures lurk within the forest and prey upon the unwary. Farewell!”

He waved, and the villagers bowed to her—her cue to go.

It was time for her to stop playing, anyway, and the road seemed a good place for her to exit Feyland. Jennet strode away from the small village. When she reached the pale, dusty road, she lifted her fingers in the command to log out.

T
he weeks flew past, and Jennet felt as though she was living two lives—the depressingly mundane one of Jennet Carter, and the rich, lively adventures of Fair Jennet in Feyland. She’d faced off against ogres, fought basilisks, spoken with ethereally beautiful faerie maidens, and completed some of the strangest quests. Things like sorting out a big pile of lentils and rice, or falling down a well and talking to animals.

There was one creature who kept showing up, a Non-Player-Character with ratty hair and a tattered dress who tried to get Jennet to do pointless quests. The creature reminded Jennet too uncomfortably of the ’shipper girl at school, so she tried to avoid the NPC whenever possible. Easy enough to do—the world of Feyland was full of levels and layers. Completing the Deep Forest had taken her most of a week, and that was with hours a day in-game.

When Jennet wasn’t playing Feyland, she was thinking about it. She spent the evenings poring over
Tales of Folk and Faerie
, so much that Dad even noticed.

Thomas came over for dinner a few times, and Jennet couldn’t help asking him questions about the book; trying to find out what she could about Feyland without being obvious. He gave her searching looks, but answered. Sometimes the answer made no sense, but she didn’t want to push it. Thomas was suspicious enough as it was.

Weekends were the worst. Barred from her secret FullD playing, she wasted time on Screenie games and counted the hours until Dad left for work again. Once, she messaged Taree, but her ex-friend didn’t bother responding. So much for that.

The only other thing for her to do was take her g-board out. Their neighborhood had a local park with half-pipes and ramps. She wasn’t the best boarder, but she knew some tricks—which put her in the uncomfortable, solitary ground between the newbies and the prime riders.

When she arrived at the park, she made a quick scan for Kenzer. Her heart gave a crazy bump when she saw him at the far side, doing half-flips with ease. The afternoon light gleamed off his helmet, and she squinted, trying to see his face.

This time she’d talk to him.

But by the time she worked up her nerve to go over, he’d merged with a group of his friends and they were already heading out, talking and laughing as they left the concrete half-pipes and ramps behind. Jennet clutched her g-board, the edges digging into her hands, and watched as Kenzer and the others piled into a new-model grav-car. The car lifted smoothly and pulled away.

So much for that. At least the park was quieter now, with fewer kids to notice as she tried out some new moves. An hour later, the sun was low enough to make her squint every time she turned around. Still, it hadn’t been a total waste. She’d figured out the board-flip move, even if she had a few bruises to show for it.

When she got home, she stowed her board and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. After that, she needed a shower to wash the faint stickiness of sweat off her skin and hair.

“Jennet?” her dad called as she passed the open study door, “could you come in here, please?”

Apprehension zinged through her, drying her throat. Had he found out she’d been sneaking onto the FullD?

“Sure.” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.

She stepped into the room and perched on one of the blue upholstered chairs facing the desk. Lacing her hands together, she gave her dad a smile meant to look innocent.

“I have some news.” He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Something jagged and bright flashed through her. Had he actually heard from her mother, after all these years? She leaned forward. Sunlight sliced through the slatted blinds at the window, falling like promises across the disheveled papers on his desk.

“VirtuMax wants to relocate all the senior employees,” he said, and Jennet sat back, swallowing disappointment. Not her mother. Never her mother.

“Relocate? To where?”

Maybe it would be a big city, or somewhere with beaches. Middland was all right, as far as medium-sized cities went, but there were more exciting places to live in the world.

“Crestview,” he said.

Jennet felt her brows pull together. “Crestview? Where’s that? I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Not many people have.” He steepled his fingers and gave her a weary smile. “It’s in the middle of the country, a smallish city compared to here. But the backbone of the ‘net runs right through, making it ideal for VirtuMax.”

Probably the podunk little town had offered bribes and incentives, too. After all, VirtuMax was the biggest gaming company in the world.

“I don’t really want to move.” Not that she had a lot going on here, but Prep was a great school, and she loved singing in the concert youth choir. Eventually she and Taree would start speaking again. And how would Kenzer ever notice her if she left?

“I don’t want to be separated from you, Jennet, but I don’t want to uproot you, either. Prep has a boarding option.”

“Wait, you’d just leave me here? Alone?” The thought rose up to choke her. She’d already had one parent abandon her.

“Honey. I only want what’s best for you. I’d miss you a lot, but Crestview doesn’t have much to recommend it. VirtuMax is building an intentional neighborhood for the staff—but right now very few of the amenities are in place. Until the VirtuMax school is built, you’d have to attend the local high school. There’s no choir, none of the kind of cultural activities you’re used to.”

Great. Accept abandonment, or go with Dad to the backside of nowhere. Neither choice appealed.

“I’ll think about it.”

He nodded. “It’s still a few months out. We’ll figure it out.”

She didn’t want to figure it out. She wanted to crawl back inside the game, where winning was practically guaranteed, and where troubles didn’t cling to her like viscous shadows, darkening everything.

“All right,” she said. Though it wasn’t.

A
dding to Jennet’s frustration, her dad caught a summer cold that kept him home for a solid week. Though her head itched and her fingers burned with the desire to play Feyland, she couldn’t risk logging into the FullD system. Even when Dad was napping.

Once he felt a little better, Thomas came to visit. The three of them sat in the living room, drinking cups of minty tea. Jennet scuffed at the patterned oriental rug with the toe of her shoe, wishing she could ask him about Feyland.

“Dr. Lassiter was inquiring when you’ll be back to work,” Thomas said to her dad. “She doesn’t want the project to fall behind.”

“I’ve messaged her every day,” Dad said. “Asking
you
isn’t going to make me miraculously better.” He paused to cough, then took a sip of tea. “I should be back next Monday. And we’re not going to fall behind. We don’t have the time.”

Thomas nodded, and a look passed between the two men that Jennet couldn’t decipher. She wrapped her hands around her mug and studied Thomas. He didn’t look that great, himself; pale and strained, and thinner than the last time he’d been over.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Surprise flashed over his face before he covered it with a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“Maybe coming down with my cold,” Dad said at the same time.

“Maybe so,” Thomas said, after a too-long second. He gulped his tea and rose. “I’ll see you at work. Lunch as usual on Monday?”

“Of course.” Her dad half-rose as Thomas stood to leave.

“No, don’t get up.” Thomas waved him back onto the couch. “You rest. And Jennet,” he turned to her, “stay out of trouble.”

“Always do.” Since there was pretty much zero trouble she could get into in their upscale neighborhood, with the house staff watching, and her game access denied. She took a sip of her cooling tea. “I’ll see you out.”

At the door, Thomas took her by the shoulder. “I’m serious. If you’re—”

“One more thing,” her dad called, moving slowly out of the living room. “If you need something to mollify Dr. Lassiter, tell her the techs are ready to code the next level.”

Thomas nodded. He squeezed Jennet’s shoulder and let his hand drop heavily to his side.

“You two take care.” He stepped outside, into the too-warm brightness of the summer afternoon.

For a moment he was outlined in light, a brilliant flare that made Jennet blink. Then it was just Thomas, thin and weary, walking out to his car. She and Dad stood together, watching until Thomas pulled away. The smell of fresh-cut lawn swirled into the house, and Jennet’s dad sighed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Just work stuff. I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

Pressing her lips together in worry, Jennet didn’t push him. Couldn’t push. Her words were leashed inside her, demands and arguments she’d swallowed for a dozen years.

Even though she and Dad never talked about it, she knew why her mother had left when she was four. She still dimly recalled her yelling tantrum, the last straw that had driven her mother away.

Sure, Dad had taken her to expensive therapy, but the shame still bound her, the secret knowledge that she had been so terrible her own mother had fled. So she didn’t argue, didn’t talk back, just went up to her bedroom and watched stupid vids until she was too tired to think.