Marny Read online

  :Hugs,: Jennet sent, along with a smiley emote.

  :Night,: Tam typed.

  Once they logged off, Marny’s room felt cold and empty. With a sigh, she set her messager on the dresser, then went to stand in front of the window again. The lights of Newpoint filled the sky with orange city-glow, brighter than at home.

  She watched for a long time, but there was no flicker of fey magic to be seen.

  The sprite called Puck traveled deep into the misty dawn of the Realm of Faerie, swooping over dew-pearled meadows on the back of a snowy owl. His eyes glinted with mischief and merriment, and stalks of yarrow fluttered in his untidy hair. He wore a tunic of tattered leaves stitched together with cobwebs and his leggings were woven of emerald moss.

  Ahead stood a circle of standing stones, the very tops catching the first rays of the rising sun. The granite glinted with mica, and in the center of the circle something stood, a pale blur, a creature whiter than the moon.

  Puck grinned with delight. He had guessed well that he might find his quarry in this place, pining for the days when such a circle might open a doorway between the worlds. The sprite brought his owl to a silent landing just outside the stones and bade it wait for him. Then, mindful of the damp grasses, he floated up and into the circle.

  The beast inside lifted its majestic antlered head and regarded him from eyes as deep and liquid as a forest lake.

  “Greetings, walker between the worlds,” Puck said, making the White Stag an elaborate bow.

  “Puck. What causes you to seek me out? This is no simple visit.”

  “Ah, friend, you have always seen far too clearly.” Puck settled himself cross-legged in the air. “Would you like to step over the boundary again, and bear a mortal upon your back for a time?”

  “It is no simple thing that you ask,” the stag said, his voice deep and sonorous, like the tolling of a bell. “Such things carry a price.”

  “A price that will be paid. I bring you the king’s word upon it.”

  “Let me think upon it,” the stag said.

  A light breeze bent the meadow grasses, and the sunlight inched down the stones as the White Stag pondered. Puck sat patiently, bobbing a little upon the air and amusing himself by braiding and unbraiding the yarrow stalks in his hair. It was no great concern of his if the stag answered yes or no, although the great beast’s agreement would certainly enliven things in the Realm, and beyond. If pressed, Puck would say that he was always in favor of a bit of bedlam.

  Finally, as a sunbeam touched the ivory tips of the stag’s antlers, the beast replied.

  “I shall do this thing,” he said.

  At his words, a ripple spread out from the standing stones and shivered through the Realm. The bargain was struck. Puck grinned with anticipation.

  “As it please you, come to the Bright Court and the king will set you on the path. Farewell, gentle hart.”

  “Be merry, wild sprite.”

  With a great bound, Puck leaped over the tallest stone and landed gracefully upon his riding owl. They swooped away over the brightening meadows, leaving the stag alone in the center of the stone circle, white as sorrow, pale as a winter moon.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  June 23

  Birdsong and waterfall woke Marny, along with a headache buzzing behind her eyes and the hazy tatters of a dream nagging at her. She shut off her alarm, which helped dial back the noise in her head, and lay there, staring at the ceiling a moment. It was important to pay attention to her dreams, Jennet had said. The problem was, all she remembered was a sense of urgency, the sound of bells, and some guy’s face.

  She squinted, trying to recall his features. Gray eyes, dark blond hair, and nice cheekbones. Too bad he didn’t have an address flashing over his head. Had the dream been a warning, or just the usual random stuff that happened when a person was asleep?

  Kicking off her covers, she got up and grimly pulled on the same clothes she’d worn the day before. They were still a little damp from her washing them out the night before, and she grimaced at the feel of the blouse against her skin. It would dry as she wore it, but not a fun way to start her morning. Her duffel had better arrive, and soon.

  As for the dream, she’d keep an eye out for a gray-eyed blond guy, but that was about all she could do.

  She stepped out of her room and met Anjah coming out of the bathroom in a cloud of perfume-scented steam. The other girl had a towel wrapped around her, and didn’t seem self-conscious at all.

  “Well.” Anjah looked her up and down. “Not very creative in your wardrobe choices, are you?”

  Marny tamped down her surge of annoyance. Anjah was shallow and conceited, and there was no point in letting that attitude spoil her own day.

  “Maybe my luggage will show up today,” Marny said. “Until then, it’s rather petty of you to make fun of my nonexistent clothing options.”

  Anjah’s cheeks colored. She didn’t say anything, just gave a sharp sniff and stalked into her room, closing the door loudly behind her. Good. Hopefully she was embarrassed by her total lack of compassion—at least temporarily.

  There was no sign of Wil, and Marny was glad. Stuck with an oaf and a princess for roomies. Welcome to the real world.

  And what did they think of her?

  She shrugged. It didn’t matter, and it was only for two months. Grabbing her tablet, she headed for the dining room. Just because she lived with Wil and Anjah didn’t mean she had any obligation to stick around and eat breakfast with them.

  Halfway down the hall, she stopped. She’d gotten blisters yesterday, and her heels were already screaming at her in their new shoes. With a sigh, she turned back toward the apartment to put on her Converse. Limping through the rest of her day would be worse than getting a few funny looks because she was wearing canvas high-tops. Besides, she didn’t think Intertech wanted their carpets stained with a trail of her blood.

  Luckily, Anjah hadn’t emerged from her room again to make more catty remarks about Marny’s outfit. She shoved her pretty-but-painful shoes into her closet, laced on her high-tops, then hurried out again.

  When she got to the dining room she paused by the door, scanning the tables. She didn’t see anybody who matched the face in her dream.

  “Marny—over here!” It was Brenna, waving from the side of the room.

  Marny nodded and gestured to the cafeteria-style line, indicating she’d get her food and then join the liaison.

  The breakfast offerings looked pretty decent. She chose a thick slice of banana bread, for a moment mourning her lost treat from home. Scrambled eggs, yogurt, and fruit rounded off the meal, plus a too-small mug of Earl Grey tea. What was it with these people and their fetish for tiny cups?

  “Morning,” she said, sliding her tray onto the table.

  The Intertech dining hall was weirdly like being in the high school cafeteria—and yet worlds away. Instead of yellow linoleum, the floor was covered in a blue-patterned carpet. No long, institutional tables with attached benches, but clusters of round tables with comfortable chairs pulled up. The lighting was softer, too, not the glare of industrial-grade lights overhead, but warmer fixtures, with a few lamps scattered around the room. It even smelled better—like bacon and coffee instead of overcooked tomato sauce.

  She sat down in a chair that was big enough—barely—to accommodate her large frame.

  “Hey there.” Brenna smiled at her. “Marny, meet my friend Quizley.”

  She pointed her fork at the guy seated to her right. His hair was brownish blond, his face lean, but his eyes were dark brown, not gray. Plus, he was about a decade too old; the face in Marny’s dream had been somebody only a little older than herself. She nodded hello.

  “Enchanté,” Quizley said. “I understand you are the newest debutante to grace our halls?”

  “Marny’s with the Social Interfaces Design team,” Brenna said. “Quiz here is a programmer.”

  “Yes.” He drew the word out with a sigh. “I take everyone’s f
oolish ideas and transform them to a more perfect form.”

  Whatever that meant. Marny raised one eyebrow. She couldn’t decide if Brenna’s friend was French or just eccentric. Maybe both.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “Mm, indeed.” The programmer turned his attention back to his omelet.

  Brenna gave her a sympathetic look. “Quiz lives in his own little world. Don’t take it personally.”

  “And a wonderful world it is, too,” the programmer said, not bothering to look up from his meal.

  “So, how’re you settling in?” Brenna asked, pushing her empty plate to the side.

  “Okay,” Marny said. “My bag hasn’t showed up yet.”

  “That’s tweaked.” Brenna frowned. “Did you check with the front desk?”

  Marny finished chewing her bite of eggs. “Not this morning, no. I’ll ask them after breakfast.”

  “Well, it’s bound to turn up soon.” The liaison picked up her coffee, then stopped, eyes going to the dining room entrance. “Uh oh. Somebody’s in trouble.”

  Marny followed her gaze to where a muscular guy dressed in a black suit sauntered around the tables. Conversations hushed as he approached, then started up again once he’d passed by. All the man needed was a pair of mirrored sunglasses to complete the clichéd bodyguard look.

  “Meh.” Quiz glanced up. “Our esteemed leader has loosed one of his dogs to bring in a malefactor, I see.”

  “That’s Mr. von Coburg’s guard?” Marny watched the man as he got closer.

  “They prefer to be called attachés,” Brenna said. “Hey, Quiz, did you go rogue again? Because Bruno there seems to be heading right for us.”

  “Certainly not.” Quiz sent her a haughty look. “Perhaps you are the one to incur the wrath of the CEO.”

  They got quiet then, as the man drew up to their table and stopped. Nearby diners craned their necks, and Marny swallowed. The air was suddenly heavy.

  “Miss Fanalua?” the guard asked.

  Brenna sucked in her breath, and Quiz slowly turned to regard Marny, brows raised high across his forehead.

  “Um, yeah,” Marny said. “That’s me.”

  Her breakfast congealed in her stomach. Was the dress code so severe at Intertech that she was being disciplined just for wearing her Converse?

  “Dettwiler von Coburg would like you to attend him in his office.”

  Marny pushed her plate away and stood. She had the feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask if she could finish her meal—and besides, her appetite was totally gone.

  “Good luck,” Brenna murmured. “Chin up.”

  The guard gave Marny a curt nod. “Follow me.”

  Aware of the intense stares on all sides, she trailed the man, trying to look self-confident and serene. Inside, though, she felt like a little kid being called into the principal’s office.

  Or being sent to prison without trial.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The guard, who didn’t bother introducing himself, led Marny out of the dining room. Instead of turning right, toward the elevators, he went left.

  “So,” Marny said, “have you been working for Intertech a while?”

  He grunted, and waved his card in front of a plain-looking door. For a second, she wondered if he was about to lock her into a janitor’s closet in punishment for wearing non-regulation footwear. Maybe she should have gone for the bloody feet, after all.

  The door led to an anteroom holding a single elevator. At their approach, the shiny gold doors slid open to reveal the gleaming wooden floors and richly paneled walls of what could only be von Coburg’s private ride. The guard gestured her to enter, then followed her into the elevator.

  There were no buttons inside. Completely voice activated, and no doubt coded to respond to only a few people.

  “Top,” the guard said.

  Marny couldn’t decide if the sinking sensation in her gut was due to the express elevator whooshing upward, or the doom that awaited her once she arrived. Would they actually kick out an intern for wearing the wrong shoes? She didn’t think so—and, in fact, the other employees at breakfast had been wearing a wide array of footwear.

  So maybe it wasn’t her Converse getting her in trouble, after all.

  Which left the even bigger question of why she was being summoned into the CEO’s presence.

  With a harmonious ding, the doors slid open. The guard—she might as well think of him as Bruno—strode out.

  “This way,” he said.

  There was only one way to go, though. Straight down the wide hallway leading toward a large set of double doors.

  Marny’s feet sank into the carpet. It was at least an inch thicker than the standard-issue down below. The ceilings were higher, too. Perks of top-floor living, she supposed. Even the air smelled refined.

  The big doors swung open as she and Bruno approached, revealing a large office. Another black-suited security dude stood just inside the threshold, and he and Bruno exchanged nods as she stepped into the room.

  The far wall was one huge window looking out over the city, and Marny blinked at the view. She’d thought her own slice of Newpoint was prime, but this was amazing. Light flooded into the office and the city below gleamed and sparkled like a treasure hoard.

  On the right side of the room, behind a vast expanse of gleaming ebony desk, sat Dettwiler von Coburg.

  Bruno stopped and inclined his head. “Mr. von Coburg, here is Miss Fanalua, as requested.”

  “Very good.” The CEO steepled his hands together and regarded her from his cold blue eyes.

  Marny straightened her shoulders, resisting the urge to bow. He was the boss, sure, but he wasn’t royalty or anything. She didn’t think.

  “Pull up a chair for Miss Fanalua,” Mr. von Coburg said.

  Bruno leaped into action, snagging a big, comfy-looking armchair from the other side of the room and placing it directly opposite the CEO. Slowly, Marny sat down. The desk stretched between her and Mr. von Coburg like an expanse of black ice.

  Silently, the guard placed a glass of water at her right hand. Condensation beaded on the sides. She felt too cold to take a sip.

  “Miss Fanalua.” Mr. von Coburg leaned forward slightly. “No doubt you are wondering why you’re here.”

  She cleared her throat. “The thought had crossed my mind. I didn’t suppose you were in the habit of personally welcoming all the interns.”

  She surreptitiously tucked her feet under the chair. This still might be about her shoes, though now she really didn’t think so.

  “Not generally, no.” He gave her a wintry smile. “But in reading over your file yesterday, I discovered you are from Crestview.”

  A stab of panic went through her. Was von Coburg aware of the faerie activity there? Did he know about Feyland?

  “I am,” she said.

  “No doubt you’re aware that VirtuMax recently made your small city its headquarters.” He paused, waiting for her nod of confirmation, then continued. “I find myself curious whether you have connections at VirtuMax. Friends, family.”

  His pale eyebrows rose ever so slightly. He was fishing for information, but what?

  “If this is about the nondisclosure agreement we had to sign for the internship, no worries,” Marny said. “I know better than to leak anything I learn here to VirtuMax.”

  “So, you are acquainted with people high up in the company.” He leaned forward. “The CEO’s son, perhaps?”

  A little shiver went through her. If he knew enough to ask that question, he’d done some digging. But still, he couldn’t know about Feyland, right? She picked up her glass of water and took a sip, stalling for time, then wiped her damp palm on her pants.

  “We go to the same school,” she said. “But I wouldn’t call us friends.”

  Not by any stretch, although they weren’t enemies any longer, either. It was true Royal Lassiter had changed—heartbreak could do that to a person—but she still couldn’t quite forgive hi
m for his rotten manipulation of her.

  “Hmm.” Mr. Von Coburg tapped the smooth surface of his desk, and a display lit up.

  She couldn’t read it from where she was sitting, but she’d bet it had to do with her friends. His next words confirmed it.

  “I see you are in close contact with a Miss Jennet Carter, whose father happens to be well placed within the company. And another of your companions, Mr. Tam Linn, has an internship with VirtuMax. In addition, your uncle seems to have had some experience beta testing for their game department.”

  A flare of anger heated the cold silence wrapping around her. Sure, this was the CEO of a major multinational corporation, but he had no business prying into her private life.

  “Leave my family out of it,” she said. Not that Uncle Zeg couldn’t take care of himself, but still. “So I know people connected with VirtuMax. What are you getting at?”

  “Pleasingly blunt.” He stabbed at the display, and it faded. “You do understand that VirtuMax is one of our competitors.”

  “Is Intertech going into simulated gaming?”

  The CEO leaned back, his stern expression revealing nothing. “I was hoping you might provide a little insight for me about the company.”

  Seriously?

  “I don’t have any secrets to spill—and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell them to you.”

  The slow smolder of temper warmed her chest. The nerve of the man! Trying to pump her for inside intel about VirtuMax. He might be the CEO, but she refused to be bullied.

  He regarded her, his eyes cold, and she tried not to squirm under his gaze. Dettwiler von Coburg made her feel like she was six years old and in deep trouble. It took all her courage to stand up to him, but she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. Even if her internship was on the line.

  “No need to take offense, young lady. I merely invited you up here for some friendly conversation.”

  Oh, yeah. If your idea of friendly included icy stares and demands for information.

  “Well, I think our conversation is over.” She said the words strongly, but couldn’t help a twinge of fear. He was the CEO of a huge, powerful company, after all, and she was just a lowly intern at said company. But holding on to that internship wasn’t worth being bullied.