Feyland: The Dark Realm

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The hospital room was dim and smelled of disinfectant, but Jennet barely noticed. She rushed to the side of the bed where Tam lay, and took one of his limp hands in hers.

Her dad stayed by the door, talking to the nurse who had shown them to Tam’s room. Without taking her eyes from the still figure on the bed, Jennet listened.

“What’s the prognosis?” her dad asked.

“We can’t say at this point,” the nurse answered. “He’s in a coma now, and seems stable. If there’s no change in the night, we’ll run some tests tomorrow.”

“The doctor mentioned possible brain trauma?” Her dad’s voice was strained.

“Sir, we really don’t know anything yet. Our specialists will be in first thing to take a look at him.”

Jennet squeezed Tam’s fingers. It was horrible, the way they were talking about him. Like he wasn’t even a person any more. Oh Tam. For the hundredth time, hot tears rose in her eyes. It didn’t seem like she was ever going to run out of them. Her body could shrivel up and desiccate, and she’d still be crying for Tam.

“Did his family arrive?” her dad asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Linn and her younger son are here. They went to the food court, I believe, but should be back soon. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the station.”

“Of course. Go ahead. We’ll just…” Dad cleared his throat. “We’ll wait here.”

Jennet listened to the nurse’s shoes squeak down the hall. Then there was only the quiet beeping of the machines Tam was hooked up to, the hum of technology. Despair sloshed through her. The hospital could run a million tests, and never find out what was wrong with Tam. Did they have a machine that could tell when somebody’s soul had been sucked into the realm of Faerie? She didn’t think so.

She had to go back, confront the Dark Queen and get Tam free - before Dad had the system taken apart. Now that she had her mortal essence back, she felt so much stronger. But would she be strong enough?

Voices sounded from outside the door. Jennet looked up as two people walked into the room - a solemn-looking boy and the frail woman who had opened the door the time she had gone to Tam’s. They halted when they saw Jennet and her Dad.

“Mrs. Linn?” Her dad had his hand out. “I’m Steve Carter, and this is my daughter Jennet. Your son was at our house today when the, er, accident occurred.”

Tam’s mom ignored the outstretched hand. “What did you do to my boy?” Her voice was low and full of pain. She turned and fixed Jennet with a hollow expression. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” It came out a whisper.

How could she possibly explain to this fragile woman with dark-circled eyes that her son had sacrificed himself inside a computer game?

“Now, Mrs. Linn,” her dad said. “I’ve arranged for you to stay in a hotel nearby, and all your meals until… That is, the hospital will do everything they can to determine—”

“I just want him back,” Tam’s mom said.

Me, too.

The little boy came to stand beside Jennet. He peered at the bed, then turned to look at her. Green eyes regarded her, so much like Tam’s that her heart squeezed tight with pain.

“I’m Peter,” he said. “But you can call me Bug if you want.”

“Hi. I’m Jennet.”

“I know.” He looked at the still figure in front of them. “I think he’s still in there.”

“So do I.”

Peter leaned forward. “Hey Tam,” he said loudly into one ear. “Wake up. Mom will make you some eggs if you do. And your computer is almost fixed.” He turned back to Jennet. “I broke his sim-system,” he said. “Not on purpose. I was fixing it. But it didn’t fix right. Tam says you have a really sparked system.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t want to talk about this. Behind her, Jennet could hear Dad speaking to Tam’s mom. His voice was low and reassuring, and she wished she could take some comfort in it. Knowing more than your parents was a terrible thing.

After a fidgeting moment, Tam’s little brother spoke again. “So, do you know Puck?”

“What?” Shock ripped through her like lightning. She glanced over her shoulder, but the adults weren’t paying attention. “What do you know about Puck? And keep your voice down.”

Peter’s eyes widened, but his reply was soft. “One of those scary nights, when we were in the fort, I woke up and it was still dark out, and Tam was talking to this little guy.” He screwed his face up. “Puck. He was just floating there in the air. He looked like a Pokemon who got old.”

“What did Puck say? Do you remember?” Jennet leaned forward. Her body felt like it wanted to take off, explode into action and run, run.

“Mhm.” Peter nodded. He didn’t say anything more.

Impatience flared, making her chest tingle with urgency. “Can you tell me what he said?”

“Yeah. He said…” Peter cocked his head to one side, clearly fishing for the memory. “He said heed the old ballands ‘cause your lady waits.”

“Anything else?” There had to be something more. Puck was obscure, but he’d give more than this slim hint. He had to.

“Nope. What’s a balland?” Peter’s green eyes were wide, full of questions. If Puck had said anything else, the kid wasn’t remembering.

Jennet wanted to kick something and yell. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut, folded her hands into quiet fists, and concentrated on what Peter had told her. Heed the old ballands.  Ballads? That made more sense. One of Thomas’s old books was filled with ballads about the faerie-folk. She hadn’t thought to look through those. They were just songs.

“Are you ok?” Tam’s little brother took her hand. His grasp was sticky and warm.

Jennet opened her eyes. “Maybe. A ballad is an old song that tells a story.”

“What’s a heed?”

“It means to pay attention to something.”

Maybe, just maybe, there was a ballad that could help. She glanced at Tam. His expression was still, his hair, for once, pushed back from his face and staying that way. The machines surrounding the bed gave off steady blips and beeps.

Ok. Halloween wasn’t until tomorrow. There was still time. Crazy hope sputtered to life in her heart. She had to get Dad to take them home, so she could start looking through her books right away.

“Who’s waiting?” Peter asked.

“Who what?” She pulled her attention back to the kid holding her hand.

“Puck said your lady waits.” He gave her a tentative smile. “Are you the lady? I hope you are. Your hair is pretty.”

I hope I am, too.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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