Destined

  “I have seen your work. You’re no destroyer. You’re stronger than that.”

  What’s stronger than destruction? Laurel had seen strength. Tamani was practically built of it. Yuki was so strong she had almost killed them all. Klea was even stronger – she’d beaten Shar, who Laurel had imagined undefeatable. Even Chelsea and David had helped repel an invasion of thousands of trolls in one afternoon. So far today, Laurel had done nothing but run away.

  “You’re a healer, Laurel, you always have been. And even though you’re angry right now, you don’t have it in you.”

  “I could,” Laurel insisted. “I could do it!”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Yeardley said calmly. “Not like this. And that’s not a weakness, Laurel. It is its own kind of power – the same power that makes you such a great Mixer, the kind of Mixer Callista could never quite be. Anyone can pluck a flower, Laurel. True strength is knowing how to give it life.”

  He pressed something into her hand. Laurel looked down at the bright red flower – castilleja. Her mom called it Indian paintbrush; common both here and in the human world. But, when cured correctly, it was one of the most powerful healing flowers in Avalon.

  Laurel’s anger melted away, leaving behind a deep, hollow grief. But sadness was familiar; sadness was manageable. It didn’t transform her, the way the raging anger did. She could remain herself and still feel this aching grief.

  With Chelsea and David flanking her, their arms around her shoulders, Laurel built up the courage to look at the Academy – her Avalon home. From the back she couldn’t see any flames, but Klea’s red poison was flowing over the dining hall roof and cloaking the entire greenhouse. Thick black smoke was still rolling off the stone, joining a murk as dark as heavy rain clouds that circled above her head. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the Academy again without remembering this devastation.

  “Your friend Tam was quite broken up himself,” Yeardley said, breaking the silence. “Tried to keep us from closing the wall, but we couldn’t do anything else. They were all gone.”

  Laurel nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks again as she looked away from the building. “He hates giving up,” she said. “Where is he?”

  As if in answer to her question, a handful of faeries came running up to Yeardley. “The Spring faerie, he’s gone!” one faerie panted.

  “Gone?” Yeardley asked, sounding truly panicked for the first time.

  “When you were closing the wall, he went crazy,” one of them said. “I’ve never seen anyone like that. I thought I had calmed him down, but the second I took my eyes off of him he ran. Slipped out the door and about took the fence in one jump.” He paused. “I think he lost someone in there.”

  “But why would he . . . ?” Laurel looked down at her sodden pink shirt and the realisation hit her with breath-stealing force. “He thinks Katya was me,” she whispered.

  “Oh no,” Chelsea said, her hands gripping Laurel’s arms. “He’s gone for Klea.”

  “He’s going to kill her,” Laurel said.

  “Or she’s gonna kill him,” Chelsea said, her face pale.

  “Is there a gate?” Laurel said, spinning to look around the enclosure.

  “Down in that corner,” Yeardley said, pointing. “But, Laurel, I advise you not to go. What do you think you are going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Laurel said. “Something.” She turned to David. “Come with me?” She had no right to ask, but she needed him. “The front door is still safe . . . after that, I – I don’t know.”

  “Of course,” David said, immediately taking up the sword from where he’d plunged it into the ground.

  “Chelsea—”

  “Don’t even start,” Chelsea said, raising a hand. “I’m coming.”

  There was no time to argue – especially against something Laurel knew she would do – had often done – in Chelsea’s shoes.

  “Then let’s go,” Laurel said, nodding. “We have zero time.”

  Slowing just enough to dart through the trees on silent feet, Tamani pressed through the forest, catching up quickly. Klea and her entourage had veered onto the path that led to the Winter Palace, but they wouldn’t reach it before he got to them. Ten more seconds and he could attack.

  Nine.

  Five.

  Two.

  One.

  Tamani burst through the trees, his spear swinging, a primal scream he didn’t recognise tearing itself from his throat. Two black-clad faeries went down beneath the spear’s gleaming diamond blades; another stumbled to the ground. Her nearest bodyguards down, Tamani lashed out at Klea with his spear. With a yelp of surprise she raised a defensive arm; the heavy leather of her black outfit soaked up the brunt of the blow, but he thought he felt a stem crack in her lower arm.

  Too bad it wasn’t her right arm.

  Klea whipped out a pistol and aimed it at him, but Tamani was ready, and a savage kick sent the gun flying. No cheating; it would be skill against skill this time.

  “Tamani!”

  In his peripheral vision Tamani caught sight of Yuki, looking almost human in jeans and a halter top that left the small flower on her back exposed to the air. Her cry distracted Tamani long enough for Klea to land a steel-toed kick to his jaw. He leaped back, then swept Klea’s legs out from under her. Raising his spear to strike, Tamani took another kick, this time to the side of his knee. He was numb to her blows, but driving him back had given her time to scramble to her feet.

  Several faerie guards were following the fight with the muzzles of their guns; Tamani doubted they would risk firing at him while he remained close to Klea. A few tried to get into the fight with knives, but Tamani lashed out with his spear, connecting with one faerie who didn’t jump back fast enough.

  Though Klea favoured her broken arm, she was plenty fast with the other. She managed to pull a knife that snicked against his spear as he aimed for her throat, but she could only deflect the blow and it bit deeply into her shoulder. Sap seeped from the wound, but Klea paid no attention. “Yuki,” she called, her voice hard and sharp. “Make yourself useful!”

  Tamani saw Yuki raise her hands. A cluster of tree roots rose out of the ground, the same way Jamison had commanded them in the Gate Garden. The thick, soil-flecked coils shot toward Tamani and he braced himself for their stinging lash – almost welcoming it.

  But it never came. The roots stopped inches away. When Tamani spared Yuki a glance, her face was contorted, as though she were trying to prevent the roots from attacking her rather than being the one in charge.

  “I – I can’t!” she cried, her words full of apology.

  Klea swore and lunged at Tamani with her knife, but she had to leap back as he brought his spear around in a long, sweeping arc. He felt as though he were watching the encounter from outside his body, observing as some greater force took control of his limbs and threw him towards his enemy, blade first. He thirsted for justice; he would make her pay for what she had taken. Fuelled by rage, he was as mighty as any Bender.

  Beneath Tamani’s onslaught, Klea gave ground; her knife was no match for his spear. He gave her an opening to his core, one she couldn’t refuse; it cost him a shallow cut along his wounded shoulder, but it also put her neck between Tamani and the haft of his spear. Gripping it with both hands, he pulled Klea bodily against him, pressing the grip of his spear against her throat. Reflexively, she dropped her knife, bringing her hands up to ease the pressure bearing down on her windpipe.

  “You,” he gasped, his hands shaking but his mind filled with black clarity – with the hunger to kill. “You have taken everything from me, and you are going to die for it.” Klea made only a strangled sound and his mind barely registered the hint of fear that – for the first time – flashed in Klea’s eyes.

  “No!” Yuki’s scream rent the air, and the universe ground to a halt as a second scream followed—

  “Tamani!”

  He tried to breathe, but his body was numb, paralysed. His
mind refused to believe.

  “Don’t do it!”

  Closer now. He had to move. Had to see.

  “Tamani, wait!” Laurel yelled, not entirely sure why. After all Klea had done, surely she deserved to die . . . didn’t she?

  Answers, she told herself. We need answers.

  Laurel felt more than saw David step up behind her and with wide eyes, watched the guards raise their guns and point them at her.

  “No!” Tamani’s shout reverberated in her ears, but as the guns sounded David lunged in front of her. Laurel retreated, almost tripping over Chelsea, who was sheltered behind a thick oak. Laurel joined her as the guards continued to spray David with bullets, ripping the quiet air with the sound of gunfire. David didn’t even flinch – just looked down as the bullets dropped into the dirt.

  Laurel chanced a peek and saw Klea slip away from Tamani and pick something up off the ground. She stood with her signature semiautomatic levelled at David’s chest and Tamani took the opportunity to run to Laurel, sliding onto the ground beside her and clutching her to his chest, his fingers shaking against her back.

  “I suppose bringing your girlfriend in to save my life is going to have to make up for the fact that you’ve been making the rest of my day damnably inconvenient,” Klea said dryly before unloading a clip at David, point blank.

  Laurel and Chelsea both clapped their hands over their ears as Tamani tried to shield them, but David was beginning to look amused. He put his free hand on one hip and stared pointedly at the pile of jacketless bullets accumulating at his feet.

  Klea got the idea and stopped shooting, smoothly snapping the gun into a holster at her side.

  “David Lawson,” Klea said slowly. “I saw your car back in Orick and figured Laurel had used it, but I admit, I’m surprised to actually see you here. There haven’t been humans in Avalon—”

  “For a thousand years. You know, everyone keeps telling me that.”

  “Yes, well, that’s probably another one of their lies,” Klea said. “Almost everything the faeries here tell you is a lie.”

  “This sword is no lie,” David proffered, stepping forwards again. “You saw the bullets dropping.”

  “And I see you coming my way, and can predict your intentions. But hear me out, human. I’m the only reason Barnes didn’t kill you and Laurel last autumn, and you owe me.”

  “Owe you? Do you remember what you did to Shar, when he said those words this morning?”

  Laurel felt Tamani’s body tense beside her.

  “A tragic waste,” Klea said, not missing a beat. “He was probably the most skilled warrior I’ve ever met. But he was on the wrong side of history, David. This whole island is on the wrong side. Look around you! It’s a tiny paradise, filled with effortlessly beautiful people who want for nothing, busily squandering their vast potential on petty social differences.”

  “Sounds like high school,” David retorted. Yuki laughed, the bark seeming to surprise her as she flung her hand over her mouth – but Klea pressed on.

  “Think what this place could offer to the world, David. And wonder why they don’t. They hide themselves away – because they think they’re better, purer, superior. And after this conflict is over and you give back the sword, what will you be? A hero? Maybe you want to believe that. But in your heart, you must know the truth. You’ll go back to being a lowly human, unworthy of their notice. After all you’ve done for them – all the trolls you’ve killed?”

  David tried to keep his face impassive but even Laurel could see the pain in his eyes.

  “Do you have any idea how many years of nightmares you’ve earned today?” Klea said, clearly aware she was salting a wound. “And for what? A race that will cast you aside the moment they’re done with you.”

  When David didn’t respond, Klea continued. “If you really want to be a hero, what you should do is help me fix this place. Avalon is broken. It needs a new vision, new leadership.”

  “He’s not going to fall for this crap, is he?” Tamani whispered – but Chelsea just raised one eyebrow.

  “What, you? Please,” David said.

  Chelsea shot Tamani a triumphant smile.

  Klea sighed, but she sounded more annoyed than disappointed. “Well, can’t say I didn’t try. Enjoy your moment in the sun, David; it will be over before you know it. Now we really must be off. As the humans say, I have bigger fish to fry.”

  “I’m not letting you pass,” David said, stepping on to the path in front of the group as Tamani drew himself to his feet.

  Klea pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and ran her fingers through her hair as if she had nothing better to do in the world. It was strange to see her without her ever-present dark lenses – to see the light green eyes rimmed by thick, dark lashes that gave her face a beauty and softness that contradicted everything else about her.

  “David, you need to play more poker; you bluff like a child. Now, I’ve heard legends of Excalibur – which is what I suspect you’ve got there – and I can guess from the way you’ve been stalling that something about the enchantment prevents you from actually harming me with it. So I’m going to walk past you now. Stop me if you can,” she said wryly, turning toward the Winter Palace and pulling her gun out again.

  Excalibur glinted as David swung toward Klea. She didn’t even flinch.

  But he wasn’t aiming for her.

  With a clang the sword sliced through her gun, then David turned and made short work of the guns in her soldiers” hands as well. Several leaped back in surprise, but they were too busy protecting their skin to realise it was their weapons he was after. Some of them tried to shoot him again, only to have their guns severed in two. Barrels, stocks, and springs soon littered the ground, along with spent brass and deflected bullets.

  Tamani took advantage of the confusion to lunge from the tree line and twist Klea’s arms up behind her, his spear returning to her throat, but Klea kicked back and Tamani yelped as her heel connected with his knee. Laurel clenched her fists in frustration, hating that she couldn’t do anything without getting in the way.

  “Stop it!” Yuki yelled, flinging an arm towards David, palm up, fingers extended. She flexed her hand into a fist and several tree roots, as big around as David’s chest, burst from the ground in an explosion of dirt and rock. They rocketed towards him and Laurel heard a strangled scream from Chelsea, but the instant any tendril touched David, it went limp, slumping back towards the ground.

  Yuki gasped and thrust her hands towards the grass at his feet and the roots sucked back into the earth, scattering soil like raindrops across the clearing. She looked to Klea, but Tamani had her on her knees now, bent forwards with his spear pressed against her back.

  “Chelsea,” Laurel whispered, never taking her eyes from Yuki, “stay here. Element of surprise. It’s the only thing we have left.” Aside from David, Chelsea was the only one who could surprise the Winter faerie, the only one Yuki couldn’t sense at a distance. They’d used that advantage to capture her after the dance – last night, Laurel realised, though it seemed forever ago – perhaps they could accomplish something similar here.

  Chelsea nodded as Laurel rose.

  “Yuki,” Laurel said, stepping forwards tentatively with her hands held up in front of her.

  “Stay where you were, Laurel,” Tamani called, his voice strained. But Laurel shook her head. Yuki was too powerful for Tamani to fight without Jamison’s help. Maybe Laurel could talk her down.

  “Please, you can’t really want this. You’ve been with us – all of us – for the past four months. We never wanted to hurt anyone, much less kill them. Yes, Avalon has its problems, but is it worth this?”

  “Kill her, Yuki,” Klea called.

  Yuki’s chin trembled. “It’s a society built on lies, Laurel. You don’t know what they do in secret. It’s for the greater good, in the long run.”

  “Says who?” Laurel said sharply. “Her?” she asked, pointing at Klea, still fighting to get fre
e of Tamani. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. She’s not noble and strong; she’s a scared bully. She killed all those faeries in the Academy. They’re dead, Yuki.”

  But Yuki’s eyes were narrowed. “It was just a fire, Laurel.”

  “And the red gas? Almost a thousand Autumn faeries are dead because of her – never mind the faeries killed by trolls.”

  “They’re not dead – they’re just sleeping.”

  Laurel’s jaw dropped and she spun to Klea now. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Klea said calmly.

  “The red smoke? I know what it does,” Laurel said. They were dead. She knew it; Klea knew it.

  And Klea had lied to Yuki.

  “Yuki, you have to listen to me – we’re not the ones lying to you. Klea is. After the fire she sent that red stuff in and it killed everyone it touched. Not sleeping – dead. She’s not what you think she is. She’s a murderer.”

  Yuki blinked, but in her eyes, Laurel could see her decision was made. “She said you’d say that,” Yuki said softly, steadily. She turned and looked at Tamani. Then, so low Laurel barely heard, Yuki whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Roots erupted from the earth again, forming a dark, mossy birdcage around Laurel. Then the ground round David retreated, pulled back by a million tiny filaments of plant matter, forming a doughnut-shaped pit around him – too far to jump over without a running start, too deep to climb out of easily.

  “Forget him!” Klea yelled. “He can’t do anything.”

  Yuki turned and looked at her mentor and Tamani and, after a moment’s hesitation, clenched one fist.

  “Tamani!” Laurel shouted, but thick roots thrust up beneath him, knocking his spear away and throwing Tamani to his knees, binding his wrists to the ground.

  “Don’t hurt them,” Yuki said, even as Klea pulled a knife from a hidden sheath. “Let’s just go.”

  But from the road, a familiar voice intoned, “I think you’ve gone far enough.”