Marny (32 page)

N
yx
strode past the pale-trunked trees with single-minded intensity. He
was going back into the Realm, and he was going
now
.

But the air didn’t change and soften, and no
faint chimes or tinkling laughter reached his ears. He had the
sinking sensation that if he glanced back over his shoulder, he’d
still see the dim interior of the warehouse through the trees.

“Hey!” he called. “White Stag—come and get
me. Spriggans, goblins, pixies, ahoy! A mere mortal is entering
your domain.”

Nothing. He whirled and glared at the faint
shadow of the juice bar beyond the silver-leafed branches.

Maybe he needed to do something more drastic.
Though he hated the thought, he turned his back on his club and
pulled out one of his shorter knives. Didn’t the Dark Queen have a
thing for blood?

“Hist,” a high voice said. “Put away thy
blade, Master Nyx, and bide a while.”

“Puck?” Reluctantly, Nyx re-sheathed his
knife. “Where are you?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” the voice said.
“But most measurably, perched above your head.”

Nyx stepped back and craned his neck to see
Puck sitting on a branch several feet above him, swinging his legs
and grinning.

“Great, you’re here.” Nyx said. “Does that
mean I’m in the Realm?”

“Not yet—though calling the dark fey with
your blood would certainly tip you over. I do not recommend you do
so, however. Having so recently escaped, do you truly want to enter
that trap once more?”

“I have to. Marny’s still in the Dark
Court.”

Puck laughed and leaped into a handstand.
“T’would be a terrible thing, to return to the queen’s court and
find that your lady love is gone.”

“Wait, what? Marny’s not there?” A chill
gripped him. “Where did they take her?”

The sprite tumbled forward off his branch,
flipping in the air until he came to hover before Nyx. Sprigs of
greenery were woven in his hair and cobwebs festooned his tattered
tunic.

“Have you so little faith in Mistress Marny’s
prowess? She has escaped.”

Relief whooshed through Nyx, but he peered
distrustfully at Puck. “Then why didn’t she return to the
warehouse?”

“She was returned elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere? Like, Crestview? Or somewhere
else in the Realm?” He tamped down on his frustration. Talking with
Puck was like trying to navigate through a twisty maze, but getting
irate at the sprite wasn’t going to help.

Puck tilted his head like a bird, bright eyes
twinkling. “She is nearby. And in this when, as well.”

That seemed like a very good thing. For a
second Nyx’s heart twisted at the idea that Marny could’ve been
sucked out of time, or taken anywhere, but he made himself relax.
Breathe.

“Okay, so Marny’s back in
the real world.” Although who knew what Puck meant by
nearby
. “I have your word
on this? Is she hurt?”

“You learn quickly,” Puck said. “She is well.
And my time here is spent. Good eventide to you, Master Nyx. May
our paths cross more lightly in the future!”

“Or preferably, not at all,” Nyx said, but he
was speaking to empty air. Only a shimmer remained where the sprite
had been.

Fine, then. He had to believe that Puck was
right, and Marny had made it back safely. Considering they’d used
the sprite’s magic to come back to the human world, it was probably
safe to assume Puck knew what he was talking about.

And if he didn’t, well, he’d basically
confirmed that if Nyx went into the forest, cut himself, and called
on the Dark Queen, he could get back to her court. If he had to.
The idea sent a shudder of distaste through him.

Nyx cast one last, narrow-eyed glance at the
shadows between the trees, but everything seemed normal. As soon as
he got out, though, he was going to take away the anchor points and
figure out what to do next. His mind shied away from the inevitable
fate of the club and the failure of his grand project. First things
first.

The second he walked out of the forest,
somebody pounded on the warehouse door. Was it Marny? He sprinted
across the floor, undid the locks and keypad, and flung open the
door.

A big man with wild, frizzy hair stood there,
the light of battle in his eyes. He raked his gaze up and down Nyx,
and his face hardened.

“Can I help you?” Nyx said, shifting his
stance to prepare for an attack.

“I think so,” the man said. “I’m looking for
my niece. A certain Marny Fanalua.”

Ah, crap. “You must be Zeg. Come in.”

Marny’s uncle moved like she did—light on his
feet and aware of his surroundings. As soon as he stepped into the
warehouse, his gaze fastened on the enchanted forest.

“Oh, that there’s trouble,” Zeg said.

“I know.” Did he ever.

Zeg made a slow survey of the entire
warehouse, then focused back on Nyx.

“Where’s Marny?” Zeg asked.

“Um. I’m not sure, exactly.”

The look on Zeg’s face darkened, and Nyx took
a step back and raised his hands.

“Hey,” he said, “we don’t need to fight it
out. She’s safe and unharmed.”

“Why isn’t she with you?”

Nyx stared at him. “How much do you even
know?”

“Enough. And if you do anything to hurt my
niece, now or in the future—”

“What, you’ll challenge him to a Samoan-style
duel?” Marny’s voice was dryly amused.

Nyx looked up to see her leaning against the
doorway, arms folded. The light from outside limned her in sunset
tones, scattering red sparks in her wild hair and making her brown
eyes glint almost golden.

She was big and strong and imposing. She was
beautiful. Relief blew through him, a strong, rushing wind clearing
away the last of his fear.

“Marny!” Ignoring her uncle, he hurried over
to her, reached out, and took her by the shoulders. “You’re here.
You’re okay.”

“Yeah.” Her smile broadened as her gaze met
his. “Same to you. Is Emmie all right?”

“She’s sleeping, and I don’t know how to
explain what happened to her, or if I even should.”

“We’ll figure it out. Now, are you going to
hug me, or just stand there like a fool?”

With a huff of laughter, he drew her in
close. Her arms went around him, and something clicked into place
in his heart, something he hadn’t even known he was missing.

“Break it up, lovebirds,” Zeg said. “You’ve
got some explaining to do.”

“And a forest to banish.” Nyx let go of
Marny, closed the door behind her, then led them over to the
couches by the dance floor.

Ruefully, he swept a look around his club. So
much for the big experiment. The ashes of failure sifted over him,
clogging his throat, but he had no choice. He had to close Club
Mysteria—for the night, before people started showing up. And then
permanently.

“One sec,” he said. “I have to go make a
CLOSED sign.”

“No worries.” Marny gave him a sympathetic
look. “We’re not going anywhere.”

As soon as Nyx left, Marny turned to Uncle
Zeg and gave him a big hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said into his
shoulder. “And I’m sorry for everything. This was almost a huge
disaster.”

“Hm.” Her uncle patted her shoulders a few
times, then let go. “Let’s sit down and you can tell me how all
this happened. I’ll hear your young man’s explanation when he gets
back.”

“He’s not my young man,” she said, dropping
her gaze.

“Don’t add self-delusion to your troubles.
Now, start at the beginning.”

Marny settled on the couch, Uncle Zeg across
from her, and told him everything, starting with her first visit to
the club. He listened and nodded, and asked a few questions, but
mostly just let her talk.

When she got to their encounter with the Dark
Queen, Marny felt her anger rise.

“And there we were,” she said, “trapped on
the back of the White Stag, and no help in sight. Then Nyx got
hypnotized, and I was sure that was it—we were going to be the
queen’s sacrifice. Where were you guys? We really could have used a
Feyguard!”

Uncle Zeg regarded her a long moment, his
eyes warm and understanding. “Did it ever occur to you that the
reason the other Feyguard were not able to reach you was because
there was already one on the scene—one with the power and ability
to save you?”

“Well, who? Thomas couldn’t help us much, and
Nyx was completely out of it.”

Her uncle smiled, the
corners of his eyes crinkling. “You, Marny Fanalua.
You
are the hero you were
waiting for. You are one of the Feyguard.”

Shock rippled through her, and she sat back.
It couldn’t be true. Could it?

She thought back to all her encounters with
the fey folk. The time she’d been drawn into the game against her
will, the time she’d tracked and helped fight a goblin. And her
adventures with Korrigan. When she’d saved him in the real world,
during the other Feyguard’s epic battle against the combined power
of the king and queen, she had glimpsed some of that fight. And she
had seen…

“That black dragon,” she said softly. “It
looked right at me.”

“At that moment you were recognized, my dear.
You have the strength and fortitude of a Feyguard. I’m surprised
you didn’t know right then you’d been called.”

“There was a lot happening,” she said,
embarrassed. “And besides, I don’t even play Feyland. I don’t
sim.”

“And yet you entered the Realm of Faerie and,
using your wits and skills, helped rescue two other people. Playing
the game of Feyland doesn’t make you a Feyguard, Marny. Strength
and smarts and the ability to make good choices under pressure do.
Plus, of course, an understanding of the Realm of Faerie and the
creatures who live there.”

“Yeah.” She blinked a couple times, sorting
out all this new information. “I guess so.”

She’d been so convinced of her role as a
sidekick, as support staff, she’d never considered herself a hero.
But apparently the world thought otherwise—and she’d have to deal
with it.

“Now, about this Nyx Spenser,” Uncle Zeg
said. “I’m not sure he’s the right guy for you.”

“And why not?” She sat back up and looked her
uncle in the eye. “Because he’s handsome and white and rich?”

“Idiot.” Uncle Zeg reached over and ruffled
her hair. “No. Because he doesn’t have the sense to listen when
he’s given good advice, and I’m not sure he can make a commitment,
especially not to a girl who lives nearly a thousand miles
away.”

“How about you let us work that one out,” Nyx
said, striding from the back hallway, a sign in his hand. “Besides,
Marny will be here all summer. We have time to figure out the
details.”

“Maybe not.” Marny spoke around the lump of
shame in her throat. “I blew my internship. They’ll be sending me
home tomorrow.”

“Ah, no,” Nyx said. He came over and squeezed
her shoulders.

“Are you certain?” Uncle Zeg asked, giving
her a close look.

“Well, not a hundred percent, but pretty
sure. I’ll know tomorrow night.”

“Then we’ll wait until tomorrow for the
weeping, all right?” Uncle Zeg said.

She let out a breath, but really, there was
no point in having a prolonged argument with her uncle about the
fact she’d probably lost her internship.

“Let me put this sign on the door,” Nyx said,
his voice low.

He held it up.
Closed until Further Notice
.

Uncle Zeg gave him a thoughtful look. “I’d
say you put a lot of effort into getting this place up and
running,” he said. “The idea of closing down must hurt. I know it
would about kill me to shutter my simcafé.”

“It was only open a week.” Nyx gave a shrug
that didn’t fool anybody. It was clear he was desolated at the
thought of closing Club Mysteria.

He trudged to the door and stepped outside to
put up the sign.

“Marny,” her uncle said. “Now that you know
you’re a Feyguard, what can you sense about the forest over there?”
He waved his hand at the silvery trees taking up the back third of
the warehouse.

Closing her eyes, she
concentrated. She felt the magic of the Realm, but it was faint.
Contained. What Nyx created really
were
bubbles, separated from the
Realm of Faerie, but made from it, and therefore lightly
connected.

“There’s a… I don’t know. A resonance?” She
opened her eyes. “The forest isn’t immediately dangerous, but it
could be. Which is what I was trying to tell Nyx all along.”

Uncle Zeg nodded. “I agree. Under most
circumstances, this enchanted woods is a harmless amusement,
sufficiently removed from the world of the fey folk to pose no
danger.”

“Circumstances can change.” Marny gave him
the eye. “What are you getting at, anyway?”