Jennet grabbed her bow, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She was barely recovered from the last fight - her weapon felt heavy in her hands, and she just wanted to sit down in the sweetly scented grass and take a rest. But there was no napping in Feyland.

Holding his sword at the ready, Tam approached the dark opening of the dolmen. She reached for an arrow and quietly nocked it to her bow. The wind ruffled the grasses, but inside the stones everything was still. She wanted to call out for him to be careful, but held her tongue. Tam knew what he was doing.

The silence stretched, shadows gathering thickly in the hollow of stones. Then a thunk issued from the opening.

“Come out,” Tam said.

For a moment, there was no answer. Then a figure moved forward into the light - a man with ancient, weary eyes and gray-brown hair. He had a guitar slung across his back.

All her fear left her in a rush. “Thomas!”

She dropped her bow and sprinted toward him, tears prickling the back of her eyes. He held out his arms, and she went straight into his hug.

“There you are, Jennet,” he said in his warm, raspy voice. “And Tamlin as well. I have been waiting for you, though I had hoped our meeting would not come so soon.”

Tam slid his sword back into its sheath, metal hissing on metal.

“What do you mean, waiting for us?” he asked. “How long have you been here?”

“How long? I cannot say. Time has a different meaning in Feyland. Long enough, it seems.” Thomas let go of Jennet and stepped back, looking her over. “You have taken a new form. I pray it serves you well on the path fate has laid for you.”

“Fate?” she asked.

He nodded. “It is always at work, but here in the Realm one can feel fate clearly, weaving the threads of lives. Come - place your hands against the stone.”

Thomas moved to the dolmen and laid his palm on the granite. Jennet followed, though she wasn’t sure she believed in destiny or whatever. The stone was rough and sun-warmed under her hand. After a moment, Tam did the same, a skeptical look in his green eyes.

“Now,” Thomas said, “close your eyes. Do you feel the power, the magic and intent of the land?”

She did - a vibration thrumming through the stone, like a note too low to hear, but felt in her chest, in her bones. The skin of her palm throbbed, then suddenly flared up, as though she had passed her hand over a flame.

“Ow!” She snatched it away and stared at her palm.

The red scar burned into her hand was glowing, so bright it was almost white-hot. As she watched, the light faded, along with the searing sensation, until the mark left by the Dark Queen was just a faint trace on her skin.

“Are you ok?” Tam stood in front of her.

“Yeah.” Her voice wobbled. “Look - my right hand is almost completely healed.”

She held out her hands, palms up, and he took them gently, comparing the two. “Wow. Can the stone fix the other one, too?”

“Worth a try.”

She put her left palm to the granite - but there was no humming within the rock, no flare of energy. When she took her hand away, it was unchanged.

Tam frowned. “It didn’t work.”

“I suspected it would not,” Thomas said. “The magic of this place never moves in the same way twice. It is beautiful, and confusing, and dangerous, as you both well know. More dangerous by the day, as the power of the Realm stirs. It wants to flow into the human world like a wave, washing everything before it and changing the mortal realm beyond recognition.”

Jennet shivered, fear seeping into her like an icy mist. “So… my version of Feyland isn’t just a fluke? The game really is dangerous?”

“It is perilous beyond words.” Thomas slung his guitar off his back and began to play a mournful melody. “We must speak of it quietly. Better not to draw the attention of the powers that rule the Realm.”

“Where are we, anyway?” Tam asked. “This doesn’t seem like the way to the Dark Court, not exactly.”

“We are on the fringes of Feyland. A place where possibilities overlap. Where things are, and are not, at the same time.”

Thomas always spoke in half-riddles. He’d been poetical when he was alive, and becoming the queen’s Bard had only made it worse. Of course, when he was alive, he had also talked about baseball and tech stuff and movies - things that didn’t exist in the Realm of Faerie.

She had the uncomfortable thought that his humanity was beginning to fade, diluted by dwelling among the fey folk. If only she could get him out somehow - but he had refused to leave Feyland, saying he no longer had a body to return to. She supposed he was right, but the thought of him stuck here forever with the Dark Queen made her want to weep.

“Now what?” Tam asked. “We just stand here and listen to you give a concert?”

Jennet gave him a warning glance. He was always so impatient with Thomas.

“Have you heard of another mortal coming here recently?” she asked. “There’s a guy in our school who has some kind of weird powers. He’s played Feyland. And he talked about a king.”

“Ah.” Thomas’s fingers moved to shape a minor chord. “There have been no mortals in the Dark Court since you defeated the queen. She was greatly angered - it is best if you never return to her court. But there is another place this human boy might have traveled.”

Tam leaned forward. “So we’re right - there is a Seelie court?”

“In this land, at this time, it is called the Bright Court,” Thomas said. “Heed the power of names, Tamlin.”

“Is it ruled by a king?” Jennet asked.

Her nerves tingled with anticipation. Finally, they were getting the answers they needed. Even if those answers were grim - like knowing Feyland truly was a threat.

“Indeed,” Thomas said. “The Bright King is gathering his power. If you wish to keep your mortal world safe, you must find a way to stop him.”

“Defeat him in battle?” Tam asked.

“Perhaps.” Thomas played another curl of melody. “Defeat can come in many forms.”

“But you can help us,” she said. “Like you did with the queen.”

“Alas, I cannot.”

Her throat went dry with disappointment “Why not? Thomas, we need you.”

“It is impossible for me to enter the Bright Court. I am bound to the Dark Queen, and thus barred from the halls of the Seelie.”

“Can’t you do anything?” She couldn’t help the pleading note in her voice. How could he just abandon them?

“I may only give you counsel.” Thomas looked at her with his sad eyes. “But it does not mean that others cannot assist you.”

“Who?” she asked. “Puck?”

“Like his help is so helpful,” Tam said.

She turned to him. “If Thomas can’t help us, we need everything we can get. And Puck got us out of some rough places last time, remember?”

“Yeah, but - ”

“Children, be still.” Thomas played a quick run of notes. “My time here grows short, but I have one last piece of advice. Use the strengths that gained you victory once, and you will triumph in the end.”

Jennet could see the outline of the stones behind him - his presence was starting to fade.

“Which strengths?” Jennet asked, her voice thick with sorrow. “Wait - Thomas…”

“Do not cry, Jennet. We must go where fate sends us, and do our best. Even if we do not understand the purpose, or feel strong or wise enough to play our part. Now listen - yonder lies the boundary of the lands claimed by the Bright Court.” He pointed to a tall, gray rock poking up from the horizon. “You must reach the standing stone marking the border. Do not tarry here overlong.”

“But…”

She lifted her hand toward him, but he was disappearing before her eyes. There was almost nothing left but a dim outline against the granite, an echo of notes hanging in the air.

“Trust one another.” The words were a whisper.

Then Thomas was gone, and there were only empty shadows beneath the dolmen. Jennet swallowed past the tightness of tears. Why did he always have to leave?

“Come on,” Tam said, taking her hand. “I’m worried that standing stone is going to disappear. It wasn’t there before.”

She let him pull her away from the dolmen and in the direction Thomas had indicated. The standing stone ahead of them looked solid and unmoving, but she picked up her pace to match Tam’s strides.

“At least we know our theory about the Bright Court was right,” he said.

“And we don’t have to fight the queen.” Or, hopefully, ever see her again.

“Yeah. But the king could be worse.”

Jennet bit her lip. “Roy seemed ok. He wasn’t being drained of his essence or anything. This is the Bright Court, after all.”

“Remember that old book of yours?” Tam said. “Just because the Seelie faeries aren’t evil, doesn’t make them good.”

Unfortunately, she knew he was right.

Another minute of fast walking brought them to the gray bulk of the standing stone. It stood about ten feet tall, and was patched with orange lichen. A path ran from it, into the lands Thomas said belonged to the Bright Court. Jennet stepped onto the path, bracing herself for a shock that didn’t come.

“It doesn’t feel like we’ve crossed any boundary,” she said.

“No.” Tam turned in a circle. “I guess we just follow the path.”

Together, they started down it. The grassy hills in front of them looked exactly the same as the ones they had left behind.

“There’s something ahead,” she said after they’d gone a short distance. “It looks like…”

“Another standing stone.” He glanced behind them. “Or maybe the same one - since it’s not back there any more.”

They hurried up to the stone. Jennet touched it, ready to snatch her hand away if it started humming at her.

“I can’t tell,” she said. “It looks the same.”

Tam folded his arms. “Why do I get the feeling we’re going in circles?”

“Because,” a high voice piped, “you are! Oh, well riddled, Bold Tamlin.”

Jennet glanced up, to see a spritely figure sitting cross-legged on top of the stone. He was dressed in gossamer tatters, and had an impudent twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Puck!”

She couldn’t help but smile at him, despite the emptiness Thomas had left. Puck had a way of cheering her up.

Tam dropped his hand to his sword hilt. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough, Bold Tamlin.”

The sprite leaped to his feet. He made a jaunty somersault, landed on Tam’s shoulder, and tweaked his ear.

“Hey!”

Tam batted at Puck, but the sprite had jumped nimbly back to his perch atop the stone. His bell-like laughter chimed through the air.

“I give you nothing you do not deserve, knight. Now listen, listen well.” The sprite’s voice grew serious. “Do you brave adventurers desire to continue further into the realm?”

Jennet nodded, then recalled Thomas’s words. The power of names, he had said.

“We wish to reach the Bright Court,” she said. “Just so there’s no confusion.”

Tam sent her a quick glance of approval, sending warmth through her. They were such good partners in-game. Why did things have to be so much harder in real life?

“Well spoken.” Puck nodded, his spiky hair standing up in tufts. “Then I have a quest for you. Will you accept it?”

“Yes,” Tam said, stepping forward.

A basket woven of twigs appeared on Puck’s arm. He jumped off the stone, then hovered before them and held the basket out to Tam.

“The two of you must bring me a basket of berries from yonder wood.” Puck gestured to the path, which now led into a dark, piney forest. “Once you return with it, I will grant you passage to the next level.”

“All right,” Jennet said.

Tam gave a single nod, then turned and headed toward the woods. Jennet followed. When she glanced back over her shoulder, the sprite was gone.

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

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote for it.  :)

Feyland: The Bright Court is published and for sale in both print and digital formats (only $4.99 for the e-book version) from all online retailers. Did you miss the first story? Feyland: The Dark Realm is here on Wattpad, and available as well from all online retailers.

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