Feyland: The Bright Court

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jennet turned to her right. Widdershins. Hand-in-hand, she and Tam paced around the first terrace, saying the words the hen-wife had given them. The rhyme didn’t seem at all childish or silly, as she had feared. Instead, the syllables hung in the air. Clouds began to gather at the horizon, a dark line that made her shiver.

She was glad when they reached Tam’s sword. That had been a smart idea, if a little dramatic. Then again, Feyland was a dramatic place.

“Round two,” he said, yanking the blade free.

It was a steeper climb, ascending to the second terrace. When they gained the flat section, Jennet took a deep breath. The orchard spread below them, the tops of the trees like fluffy pillows. Beyond the orchard, she could see the fence, and the meadow dotted with grazing cattle.

Again, Tam drove his sword into the earth, and they took hands, facing widdershins. The words of the rhyme tolled out like a bell. As they walked, the wind began to rise, pulling strands of Jennet’s hair free to whip about her face. They passed the sword. Clouds were piling up in the sky, a dark bruise reaching for the sun.

“Hurry,” she breathed when they reached his sword the second time.

Tam yanked it out of the ground and they scrambled up to the final terrace, grabbing onto tufts of grass to keep their balance. Tam took her hand and hauled her up the last few feet, then pushed the tip of his blade into the earth. From here, she could see the far meadow, where a silvery herd of horses raced under the darkening sky - and beyond, the edge of a wood.

Clasping hands again, even tighter, they went around the top terrace, faster and faster. The words of the rhyme fell from her lips, echoed on his, until the very air seemed to be vibrating.

“Open fast, open fast, let us in at last.”

Past the sword once. Twice.

The clouds devoured the sun, the air suddenly cold and clammy against her skin. The wind grew even fiercer, snatching the syllables from her mouth almost before she said them. Tam raced ahead, pulling her by the hand. Ahead, the silver blade of his sword glowed, as if lit from within.

She reached the blade a second behind Tam. As she did, the air was rent by a clap of thunder that brought them both to their knees. He stood and wrenched his sword free, and a sudden stillness fell over the land.

“Look,” he whispered.

Above them, at the very summit, a seam opened in the side of the hill. The grasses shimmered and melted away, revealing a wooden door. Slowly, it swung open - a shadow-mouth leading someplace unimaginable. Cold air breathed out, scented with age and long-forgotten things buried in the earth. Two tall, hooded figures swathed in mist-colored cloaks stood guard on either side.

Jennet swallowed, fear a sharp tang in her mouth.

“That doesn’t look very… bright,” she said in a low voice. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this - a gaping passage leading into a dark hill.

Tam slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a quick, comforting hug. It worked - probably because it was so unexpected. She blinked at him, and he gave her a half-smile.

“Come on,” he said.

He stepped away from her and led the way up the last bit of rise. Despite his confident bearing, she could see that his fingers were tight on the handle of his sword.

As they approached, Jennet peered at the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond the threshold. She couldn’t see anything, just a swirling, heavy mist.