Spells

  “A…woman found us, just in time. She chased off the trolls.”

  “A woman? Who?”

  Laurel handed Klea’s card to Tamani.

  “Klea Wilson. Who is she?”

  Laurel relayed the story of the previous night, with several interruptions from Tamani asking for clarification here, more details there. By the time she was done, she felt like she’d relived the entire ordeal. “And then she made us take the guns and we left,” she finished. “It was so weird. I have no clue who she is.”

  “Who—” Tamani paused and paced a few steps. “There’s no way—” More pacing. Finally he stood still, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve got to talk to Shar about this. This is…problematic.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Laurel asked.

  “Stop going out at night?” Tamani suggested.

  Laurel rolled her eyes. “Besides that. Should I trust her? If I’m in trouble and the sentries aren’t around—”

  “They should always be around,” Tamani said darkly.

  “But if they’re not, if I see this woman again…do I trust her?”

  “She’s a human, right?”

  Laurel nodded.

  “Then no, we don’t trust her.”

  Laurel gaped at him. “Because she’s human? What’s that supposed to say about David? Or my parents?”

  “So you want to trust her?”

  “No. I don’t. Maybe. I don’t know. Tell me not to trust her because she hunts nonhumans or because she gave us guns. But you can’t just decide that she’s not trustworthy because she’s a human. That’s not fair.”

  Tamani held his hands out in frustration. “It’s all I’ve got, Laurel. I have nothing else to judge her on.”

  “She did save my life.”

  “Fine, I’ll take away one strike.” He walked over and leaned against the wall beside her.

  Laurel sighed. “Why is this happening now?” she asked, frustration creeping into her voice. “I mean, it’s been almost a year since Barnes, and nothing. And then in one night, bam! Trolls, Klea, more trolls at my house. All at once. Why?” Laurel asked, turning her head to look at Tamani.

  “Well,” Tamani said hesitantly, “there hasn’t exactly been nothing for the last year.” He looked apologetic. “We didn’t think you needed to know about every troll that passed through Crescent City and glanced your way.”

  “There have been others?” Laurel asked.

  “A few. But you’re right, this is the best organized, most carefully targeted attack I’ve had any report of.”

  “I can’t believe there were others,” Laurel said in disbelief. “I really don’t have any control over my life.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s not like that. Most of them never made it within a half mile of your house. The sentries took care of them. No big deal.”

  Laurel scoffed. “‘No big deal.’ Easy for you to say.”

  “It was under control,” Tamani insisted.

  “How about last night? Was last night under control?”

  “No,” Tamani admitted. “It wasn’t. But nothing like that has ever happened before.”

  “Then why now?”

  Tamani smiled wearily. “It’s a good question. If I knew, it might answer some of my questions as well. Like why the trolls have stopped sniffing around here lately, or how Jeremiah Barnes figured out the gate is on this land, or who’s really giving orders to who in this fiasco. It’s one of the many things we’re still trying to figure out.”

  Laurel was silent for a moment. “So what do I do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Take things slow, I guess. Be careful and try to avoid getting into a situation where this Klea person might come around again.”

  “Oh, trust me, I will.”

  “For the moment, though, I think that’s all you can do. I’ll talk to Shar. We’ll see if we can figure anything else out. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks for coming to tell me,” he said. “I really appreciate it. And not just because I get to see you. Though it’s a nice bonus. Oh,” he said, reaching into his pack. “I have something for you. Jamison gave it to me.” He handed her a large cloth sack. Laurel took it and peered into it for a second before laughing.

  “What is it?” Tamani asked, confused.

  “Powdered sugarcane. I make potion vials out of it and I’m almost out.” She shook her head. “Now I can break a hundred more vials,” she said ruefully.

  “Things still not working?” Tamani asked, trying to hide his concern.

  “No,” Laurel said lightly, “but they will. Especially now that I have a ton more of this,” she added with a grin.

  Tamani smiled before his eyes slipped to the side, focusing on something just over her shoulder.

  “What?” Laurel asked, craning her neck to look self-consciously at her petals.

  “Sorry,” he said, apologizing again. “It’s so beautiful and I hardly got to see it last year.”

  Laurel laughed and spun, showing off her bloom. By the time she got back around, Tamani was conscientiously studying Laurel’s bucket of cleaning stuff. Laurel thought about the conversation she and David had about how sexy he thought her blossom was. If it was sexy to David…

  No more spinning.

  “So what is all this?” Tamani asked, covering the awkward moment.

  “Just cleaning stuff. Glass cleaner, floor cleaner, multipurpose cleaner.” She pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. “And these, so none of it gets on me.”

  “So…can I help?”

  “I only brought one pair of gloves, but”—she pulled out a feather duster—“you can dust.”

  “How about I clean and you dust.”

  “It’s just dusting,” Laurel said with a laugh. “You don’t have to wear a ruffly apron or anything.”

  Tamani shrugged. “Fine. It’s just weird.”

  “Why’s it weird?” Laurel asked as she filled her bucket with warm, sudsy water and donned her gloves.

  “This is Ticer work. It’s weird to see you doing it. That’s all.”

  Laurel laughed as she ran her sponge over the dusty countertops. “I thought you were getting uncomfortable because it’s ‘women’s work.’”

  “Humans,” Tamani muttered derisively, shaking his head. Then, cheerily, “I’ve scrubbed many a room in my day.”

  They worked in silence for a time, Tamani clearing cobwebs from several of the corners, Laurel scrubbing at the counters and cabinets in the kitchen.

  “You really should let me bring you some cleaning supplies from Avalon if you’re going to do this very often,” Tamani said. “My mom knows a M—ah, Fall who makes the very best stuff. You wouldn’t need the gloves.”

  “You were going to say Mixer,” Laurel teased.

  “I’m a soldier,” Tamani said, his voice taking on an exaggerated formality. “I am surrounded by uncouth sentries from dawn to dusk. I apologize for my vulgar behavior.”

  Laurel looked up at him, watching her with a playful, almost taunting, smile. She stuck out her tongue, which made him laugh. “Well, if it’s not an inconvenience, faerie cleaning supplies would be nice,” she said. “How is your mom?”

  “Good. She would like to see you again.”

  “And Rowen?” Laurel asked, evading the question his statement implied.

  Tamani smiled broadly now. “Had her first performance at the equinox festival; she was adorable. She held the train for the faerie playing Guinevere in the Camelot retelling.”

  “I bet she was beautiful.”

  “She was. You should come to a festival one of these days.”

  The possibilities loomed large in Laurel’s mind. “Maybe someday,” she said with a smile. “When things aren’t so…you know.”

  “There’s no place in the world safer for you than Avalon,” Tamani said.

  “I know,” Laurel said with a quick glance out the window.

  “What are you looking for?” Tamani asked.
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  “The other sentries.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t you get tired of knowing there’s always someone listening to you?”

  “Nah. They’re polite. They’ll give us our privacy.”

  Laurel snorted in disbelief. “Admit it, if it was Shar and some strange girl, you’d spy.”

  Tamani’s face froze for a second before his eyes darted to the window too. “Fine,” he admitted. “You win.”

  “It’s one reason I don’t know that I could ever live in this cabin again. Never really being alone.”

  “There are other advantages,” Tamani said not-so-teasingly.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Laurel said, not taking the bait. “But privacy isn’t one of them.”

  They cleaned silently for a while longer. At first, Laurel wished she had thought to bring a radio or something. But Tamani didn’t seem to mind the silence, and soon Laurel realized that it wasn’t really silent at all. The breeze winding through the trees and wafting through the windows was a sound track all its own.

  “Is it hard?” Tamani asked suddenly.

  “What?” Laurel said, looking up from the window she was polishing.

  “Living a human life? Now that you know what you are?”

  Laurel was still for a long time before she nodded. “Sometimes. What about you? Isn’t it hard living in the forest so close to Avalon, but on the wrong side of the gate?”

  “It was when I started, but I’m used to it now. And I really am close. I go back a lot. Plus, I have friends—faerie friends—who are with me all the time.” He paused for a few seconds. “Are you happy?” he whispered.

  “Now?” she replied, her voice equally low as her hands clenched the paper towels.

  Smiling sadly, Tamani shook his head. “I know you’re happy now. I can see it in your eyes. But are you happy when we’re—when you’re not here?”

  “Of course,” Laurel said quickly. “I’m very happy.” She turned and rubbed hard at the windows.

  Tamani’s expression didn’t change.

  “I have every reason to be happy,” Laurel continued, forcing her voice to stay calm. “I have a great life.”

  “I never said you didn’t.”

  “You’re not the only person who makes me happy.”

  A tiny nod and a grimace. “I’m quite aware of that.”

  “The human world isn’t as dreary and bleak as you like to believe. It’s fun and exciting and”—she searched for another word—“and…”

  “I’m glad,” Tamani said. He was close by her shoulder now. “I wasn’t asking to prove some kind of a point,” he said earnestly. “I really wanted to know. And I hoped you were. I—I worry about you. Needlessly, I’m sure, but I do nonetheless.”

  Embarrassment flooded through her and she tried to relax her stiffened spine. “Sorry.”

  “Well, you should be.” Tamani grinned.

  Laurel shook her head with a laugh.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lift his hand toward her, then he let it drop and attempted to subtly push his hands into his pockets.

  “What?” Laurel asked.

  “Nothing,” Tamani said, turning and starting to cross back over to the opposite side of the room.

  “The ‘faerie dust’?” Laurel asked, remembering last year as well as earlier that summer in Avalon.

  Tamani nodded.

  “Let me see.” She’d been too late in Avalon, but now she had a perfect opportunity.

  “You got mad at me last year.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t make me responsible for all the stupid things I did last year.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand into hers.

  He didn’t resist.

  His hand was lightly brushed with a fine, glittery powder. She held his arm at an angle so the pollen caught the sun and glimmered. “It’s so pretty.”

  Only then did Tamani’s hand relax. A playful grin crossed his face and he lifted a hand and rubbed a finger across her cheek, leaving a light, silvery streak.

  “Hey!”

  His swift hands shot out and he drew a line across her other cheek. “Now you match.”

  His hand reached out once more—aiming for her nose—but she was ready this time. Her fingers closed around his wrist, blocking him. Tamani looked down at his hand, a good three inches away from her face. “I’m impressed.”

  He brought his other hand up so quickly, Laurel didn’t even see it before it touched her nose. She swatted at his hand as he laughed and continued trying to paint stripes and she tried, usually unsuccessfully, to block him. He finally managed to grab both of her hands and held them down to her sides, pulling her against his chest. Her smile melted away as she looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart.

  “I win,” he whispered.

  Their eyes locked and Tamani slowly moved forward. But before his face could reach hers, Laurel dropped her head, breaking eye contact. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  Tamani just nodded and let her go. “Were you going to try to get the upstairs today too?” he asked.

  Laurel looked around at the half-clean downstairs. “Maybe?”

  “I’ll stay and help, if you want,” he offered.

  “I would like you to stay,” Laurel said, her words answering more than just the simple question. “But only if you want to.”

  “I do,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “Besides,” he added with a grin, “you didn’t bring a ladder. How will you get all the way to the ceiling without my help? You’re practically a sapling.”

  They worked for the next three hours, until they were both tired and dusty, but the house was mostly clean. At the very least, it would be an easier job the next time Laurel attempted it.

  Tamani insisted on carrying the bucket when he walked her back out to her car. “I’d ask you to stay, but I really would be more comfortable if you were home by sunset,” he said. “Especially after last night. It’s just better that way.”

  Laurel nodded.

  “And be careful,” he said sternly. “We watch out for you as much as we can, but we’re not miracle workers.”

  “I will be careful,” Laurel promised. “I have been careful.” She stood for a few moments, and this time it was Tam who stepped forward first, his arms twining around her, holding her tight, his face against her neck.

  “Come back soon,” he murmured. “I miss you.”

  “I know,” Laurel admitted. “I’ll try.”

  She slid in behind the wheel and adjusted the mirror so she could see Tamani standing with his hands in his pockets, watching her. A small movement caught her eye and she studied a thick tree at the end of her yard. It took a moment to make out the tall, slim faerie standing half behind it. Shar. He said nothing to make his presence known—he just glared.

  Laurel shivered. He wasn’t glaring at Tamani. He was glaring at her.

  NINETEEN

  LAUREL PULLED OPEN THE HEAVY DOUBLE DOORS IN the front of the school on Monday morning, anxious to see David. Between her trip to the land and a last-minute visit David had to make to his grandparents, they hadn’t seen each other all weekend.

  Her smile faded when she got to her locker and found it deserted. She and David drove in together about half the time, but when they didn’t, they always met here before class. And after class.

  And between classes.

  But today, he was nowhere to be seen. She would have assumed he was just running late, but he hadn’t called to say so, as he had in the past. Laurel tried to reason away her concerns. It wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence for David to miss the first bell, but still, it did happen sometimes. She slowly retrieved her Spanish book, trying to look like she was busy instead of like a girl who had nothing better to do than hang out at her locker, waiting for her boyfriend.

  She procrastinated until thirty seconds before the final bell, then sprinted to make it into Spanish on time.

  She rushed out of class right as her teacher released them only to find the spac
e in front of her locker empty again. Fear pounded through her and she hurried to the front office, wishing for the millionth time that she had a cell phone. Her parents could certainly have afforded one for her, but her mother steadfastly maintained that she didn’t need one until she left for college.

  Parents.

  “Can I use the phone real quick?” Laurel asked the secretary. The secretary plunked a cordless down on the counter in front of her. Laurel dialed David’s cell number and her tension rose as it rang, once, twice. On the fourth ring his voice mail picked up. It beeped for her to leave a message, but what was she supposed to say? I’m worried. Please come to school?

  She hung up without saying anything. She considered ditching and driving around town looking for him, but besides the futility of that, she had chemistry next. If he did just show up super late, at least if she was in class she’d know immediately.

  Chemistry class had never lasted so long. While her teacher rattled on about polyatomic ions, Laurel’s mind was flipping through progressively worse and worse scenarios. David killed by trolls. David taken and tortured by trolls. David taken by trolls and used as a trap for her so she could be tortured. By the end of the class they all seemed not only believable but probable.

  Laurel ran over to the social studies hallway, where Chelsea was just stepping out of history. “Have you seen David?” Laurel asked.

  Chelsea shook her head. “I always assume he’s with you.”

  “I can’t find him,” Laurel said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  “Maybe he’s sick,” Chelsea suggested—Laurel had to admit—rationally.

  “Yeah, but he’s not answering his cell. He always answers his cell.”

  “He might be sleeping.”

  “Maybe,” Laurel said. She returned to her locker and pulled out her American literature textbook. She looked at the cover and suddenly the thought of reading anything someone wrote a hundred years ago seemed like the most pointless thing in the world. She put it back and grabbed her purse instead. She just had to see if he was at home. It wouldn’t take that long—she probably wouldn’t even be counted absent if she hurried back. She was just reaching out to swing her locker door shut when Chelsea tapped her shoulder, startling her.