Feyland: The Dark Realm

Chapter Nineteen

“Wait!” Tam called from behind her. “Who is it?”

As she hurtled down the road, the man set aside his guitar and rose. He opened his arms and she flew into them.

“Thomas!” Tears ran salty into her mouth. She clung to him, her father’s old friend, so familiar despite the odd clothes he wore. “I can’t believe it. You’re all right.”

“Well, now.” He gave her a final squeeze, then set her back at arm’s length. “You might want to tell your friend with the blade not to chop off my head.”

Jennet whirled to see Tam running toward them, his sword gleaming at the ready. “Tam, wait! This is a friend.” She couldn’t stop crying.

“Really. You don’t look too happy about it.” He didn’t sheathe his weapon.

She pulled her sleeve across her face, trying to dry her eyes. “Tam Linn.” Her voice still wobbled. “Let me introduce you to Thomas. Thomas Rimer.”

Tam’s expression went wary. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that the programmer - the guy you said died?”

“But he didn’t!” She turned to Thomas. “You’re here. We have to get you out of Feyland and back into the real world.”

“Jennet, stop.” Thomas’s voice was full of sorrow. “There is no return for me.”

“What? Of course there is.” She grabbed his arm. It was solid, real.

Thomas shook his head. “I’m the Queen’s Bard now. I made a bargain with her, and it cannot be broken. I belong to the Court.”

“What do you mean?” But there was a chill in her stomach. She knew how it felt to lose a part of herself to the queen. Had Thomas given away everything?

“We could help you get free,” Tam said, sliding his sword back into the scabbard.

“My thanks,” Thomas said. “But even if you could break the bonds that hold me here, I have no form in your world to return to. My body is gone, is it not? I left it behind when I followed the queen’s call.”

“But…” Jennet swallowed hard against the grief shaking through her. How could she have found Thomas here, only to lose him again?

“So,” Tam said, “You don’t really exist?”

Thomas gave him a weary smile. “What is real? What is illusion? Am I just a memory conjured from Jennet’s mind? Am I a wayward bit of programming, hidden deep inside a computer game? Am I one of the fey-folk now? It is for you to decide - and there may be no true answer.”

“But… I’ll never see you again?” Jennet tried not to wail the words.

“Of course you will.” Thomas ruffled her hair in an old, familiar gesture. “I will help you in every way I can. But tell me. What month is it, what day, in your world?”

“October nineteenth,” Tam said. “Why?”

Worry creased the bard’s forehead. “The days grow short - but there is still time.”

“Time for what?” Jennet asked. “What’s going on?”

“Come sit with me,” Thomas said. “I will tell you what I know.”

He took up his guitar, and then leaned against the weathered standing stone. Bits of melody drifted around them as he strummed the strings, coaxed free by his nimble fingers.

Jennet sank down beside him, but Tam remained standing in the middle of the road, his arms crossed. Thomas continued to play, as if there was nothing urgent or remarkable about the situation - two kids in the middle of a computer game, talking to a man five weeks dead.