“What’s going on?” he asked.
She turned to him, her magenta hair extra red in the firelight.
“Put your knife away,” she said. “Roy is one of the Feyguard. And he’s been doing his job of protecting the border.”
“Spark, I know why you’re here,” Roy said, then tipped his head at Aran. “But what about him?”
“Aran’s going to help me close the gate,” she said.
“He is?” Roy raised one eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”
“No.” Her voice was firm. “You should be logging off and getting some rest. We’ll stand watch here until you get one of the other Feyguard in.”
“Zeg was here until recently. I sent him to get some rest. I can handle this.”
Aran snorted. Roy’s voice held a ragged edge, and clearly the dude was trying to play tough to impress Spark.
“Watch it, pretty-boy,” Roy said to him.
“Roy.” Spark set a hand on his arm. “Please.”
Roy’s look of resolution softened at her touch, and Aran couldn’t blame him. He’d cave, too, if Spark looked at him that way.
“Okay,” Roy said. “I’ll gather the others and send them in. Be careful.”
“Don’t worry.” Spark stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
Not the lips. Aran filed that bit of information to ponder later.
“You better do everything you can to protect her.” Roy gave Aran one last, narrow-eyed look, then strode away toward the clearing.
“Nice guy,” Aran said, finally sheathing his blade. “Are all your friends so sweet? And what’s with the super-secret Feyguard club?”
“What do you think?” The warmth that had infused Spark’s voice left when Roy did. “Somebody has to make sure the human world is protected. No thanks to you.”
“How many are in the club?”
“Not nearly enough.” Her shoulders dipped.
“Like, a hundred?”
She shook her head. “Try seven.”
“What? That seems… inadequate.”
“It would be plenty, if not for your idiotic choice to fling the gateway wide open!”
“Shh.” Aran held up his hand. “I heard something.”
The underbrush crackled again, and he whirled, going into a fighting crouch. Two spots of brightness blinked at him, and an instant later, a familiar, tattered figure sprang onto the path.
“Puck!” Aran and Spark exclaimed at the same time.
Puck grinned at them. “I am come to offer aid.”
Aran narrowed his eyes at the sprite. He didn’t trust the little creature—not after the way he’d “helped” Aran previously.
“What did you have in mind?” Aran asked.
Puck ignored him, and floated up to hover before Spark.
“You bear an injury,” he said to her. “I shall heal it, should you desire.”
“That would be great.” She held out her left arm.
The sprite set two of his long, spindly fingers on her wrist. Greenish light flared, and Spark let out a yelp. Aran took a step forward, ready to bat Puck out of the air.
“I’m all right,” she said. “That feels much better.”
Puck gave a sharp, satisfied nod. “You are mended, across all realms. But now, ’tis past time you mortals continued on your final quest. Go! I shall guard the way.”
“I don’t think so,” Aran said.
Now that he knew how utterly serious this gap between the worlds was, he was committed to closing it—and making sure that nothing else slipped through in the meantime.
“We can trust Puck,” Spark said. “Look, he fixed my wrist, and he’s helped out before.”
“Better if we wait for one of your Feyguard buddies to show up. What if Puck lets something get through? Don’t you think having a faerie guarding the way sort of defeats the purpose?”
“We don’t have time,” she said. “Vonda only gave us an hour. We can’t waste it hanging around here, especially when someone else is volunteering.”
“Something else, you mean.”#p#分页标题#e#
“The lady speaks truly,” Puck said. “Even now, the Dark Court may be massing, ready to push into the human world. Quickly now.” He gestured down the pathway.
“Come on.” Spark grabbed Aran’s arm and towed him into movement.
Grimly, he followed deeper into the dark forest, hoping they hadn’t made a huge mistake by leaving the sprite in charge.
“What’s this quest Puck mentioned?” he asked, once they’d gone some distance.
“An extended questline I’m on. If I’m right, we need to find a golden apple.”
“Sounds mythic.”
She shook her head, her bright hair shining in the firelight. “No gods and goddesses in the realm. Just the fey folk—who are probably older than human history.”