Well, that wasn’t completely true. The world was bigger than the FullD, or the continent, or even the planet. There were worlds beyond worlds, and she had even seen one of them.
But even memories of haunting fey magic couldn’t ease the aching of her human heart.
Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure, Magic
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aran slumped on the lumpy sofa in the Chowney’s garage, his battered tablet in one hand. He’d turned the single wall-mounted heater on, but it did little to push back the chill. Even with a cup of ramen in his belly and his bulky black hoodie on, he couldn’t get warm.
Everything in his life was sour. He’d gotten nowhere with hacking Feyland, he’d severely tweaked it with Spark—not that they’d had a chance of something real, anyway—and he’d just found out some guy on buysimcheats.com had undercut all his prices. He was down to twelve bucks, half of it in grimy change.
And he didn’t even have his fake chip any more. It was a little thing, but it stung the back of his throat. He was out of choices, with nowhere left to go.
At the dark of the moon, we will come and take you… The goblin’s words echoed through his mind. Aran scrolled through the calendars on his tablet until he found one that showed the phases of the moon. The dark of the moon was tomorrow.
His stomach tightened, although he knew nothing was going to happen. Feyland was just a game.
From outside the thin window he heard giggling. He immediately powered off his tablet, the blue glow fading until the garage was dark. Rising, he twitched open the thick, dusty curtain and could barely make out the figure of Bix trying to boost the robo-enforcer girl into his bedroom window.
“Just push it up,” Bix whispered in a too-loud voice.
“I’m trying.”
She shoved at the window, lost her balance, and the two of them toppled into the shrubbery. Aran winced at the crackle of breaking branches. No lights went on in the house, though Bix and Cyndee were smart enough to lie there quietly for a moment.
Still, they were going to be discovered, and Bix would regret it. His parents were strict. If they could, they’d confine him to his room until he left for college next fall.
Quiet as a shadow, Aran slipped out the door and into the yard.
“You two,” he whispered.
“What?” Bix turned on the thin beam of a flashlight and shone it around. “Aran?”
“Come to the garage,” Aran said.
Bix untangled himself from the shrubs and helped Cyndee out. When the three of them reached the musty darkness of the garage, Aran flicked his tablet back on, letting the blue light illuminate the room.
“Really?” He turned to Bix. “What do you think your parents will say when they discover you?”
Cyndee set a hand on her hip and scowled at Bix. “You said it was all flash for me to come over. I don’t want no raging ’rents.”
“You guys can stay here.” Aran tilted his head toward the couch he slept on most nights.
“What about you?” Bix asked.
“I’m not sleepy,” Aran lied. “Besides, I’ve got a date.”
Right. An imaginary magenta-haired girl with a great laugh waited for him beside the sea. If only things were different. If only he were different, not forever marked by one naïve mistake that had cost him everything.
“Have fun,” he said, scooping up his bag and tucking his tablet inside. “See you later, Bix.”
“Thanks, man. Catch you at the con tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
Aran lifted his hand in farewell and went out into the empty night—made all the more bitter by the sound of Cyndee’s laughter and Bix’s answering murmur as he shut the door.
Aran spent some of his change at a late-night coffeehouse, idly flicking through the gaming headlines on his tablet. Once the place closed down he caught the last bus to the outskirts. It was just him and a guy who reeked of urine. Aran was glad to get off where the train tracks crossed the road.
He walked the rails, shining silvery gray in the first light of approaching dawn. Ahead, he could hear the waves swooshing back and forth over the gravelly beach.
The faint drizzle faded, leaving a sheen of water over the earth. He balanced on the glistening metal tracks, then took the cutoff through the bracken, his jeans wicking water from the evergreen leaves. Ahead of him, the hushing of the sea grew louder as the path dropped to the shore.
Aran followed the trail around the last hump of land, and the sea opened before him, all gray and moving like a vast, living creature. He drew in a deep breath, scented with salt and crushed ferns, and scrambled down to the stone-covered slice of shore.