“Thank you,” Laurel said.
Tamani looked down at his hands, an emotion sketched across his face that Laurel couldn’t quite decipher. “I resent that I didn’t know,” he finally said. “There’s so much I don’t know. And I don’t think Yuki is going to tell us anything. Half of what she says contradicts the other half. I thought maybe, once we had her trapped, we’d finally get the answers we’ve been looking for, but . . . if something doesn’t happen soon . . . I’m not sure what Shar will do.”
“Shar . . .” What was it he’d told her? I will do whatever it takes to keep Avalon safe. ’He won’t hurt her, will he? To get more information?”
“He can’t. Even if he were so inclined, he can’t enter the circle.”
“There are things he could do without entering the circle,” Laurel said. “He could—”
“I won’t let him,” Tamani countered firmly. “I promise. I’ll watch out for her. Lies or not, she was my friend. Maybe she still is, I don’t know. Besides, even Shar wouldn’t risk the penalties he would face for . . . for torturing a Winter faerie.”
Laurel wasn’t sure she believed that.
“He’s not a monster,” Tamani continued. “He does what has to be done, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. I understand you can’t trust him right now, but please try to trust me.”
Laurel nodded glumly. Like she had a choice?
“Thank you,” he said.
“Can it really hold her, Tam? The circle?”
He was silent for a moment. “I think so.”
“It’s just salt,” Laurel said quietly. “You were with me in the Winter Palace; you felt the power in those upper rooms. Containing that kind of magic with something that’s currently sitting on my dining-room table doesn’t seem possible.”
“She walked into it of her own accord. Shar says that’s where the power comes from.” His eyelashes rose and his pale green eyes met hers. “Never underestimate the power of a situation you put yourself into.”
She knew he was talking about more than just the salt circle.
After a moment of hesitation Tamani joined her on the ground, settling a comforting arm over her shoulders.
“I’m sorry for everything,” he whispered, words weighted with regret. She turned her face and leaned in, wanting to lose herself in him, to forget everything else, just for a moment. Tamani exhaled shakily and brought his face close to hers. Laurel lifted her hand to his cheek and drew him forward the rest of the way. Their lips had scarcely touched when the door opened and Chelsea stormed out, keys jangling in her hand.
“Shar had them the whole time,” she complained loudly. “He stood there and watched me look all over for them and then—” Her eyes zeroed in on Tamani’s arm around Laurel’s shoulders. “Oh, duh,” Chelsea said, clearly realising Shar’s intent now. Then, softly, she added, “Sorry.”
Laurel rolled down her window, letting the wind caress her face as Chelsea drove through the empty, darkened streets. For nearly half an hour Chelsea said nothing further about their short bout in the apartment or her ill-timed appearance, and Laurel appreciated the effort her friend must have put into keeping quiet. Silence certainly did not come naturally to Chelsea. She was probably dying to rehash their visit with Yuki, but all Laurel wanted to do was force it to the back of her mind and pretend it had never happened.
“Hey, is that . . .”
Chelsea was already pulling over when Laurel realised that the tall guy walking down the side of the road, silhouetted by the streetlight, was David. His eyes were wary as the headlights flashed across them, but recognition – and relief – dawned as Chelsea pulled her mother’s car alongside him.
“Where were you?” Chelsea demanded when David crouched to peer through the passenger window. “I drove all over the place.”
David studied the ground. “I stayed out of sight,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to be found.”
Chelsea glanced over her shoulder in the direction he had been walking. Towards the apartment. “Where are you going?”
“Back,” David growled. “To make things right.”
“She’s doing OK,” Chelsea said, her eyes serious.
“But I put her in there.”
“She’s figured the circle out,” Chelsea insisted. “It’s not like it was. She’s not hurting herself anymore. She just sits there. Well, sits and talks,” she added.
But David was shaking his head. “I’ve been running away from my part in this and I’m done. I’m going back to make sure everything stays humane. Or, you know, whatever the plant equivalent is.”
“Tamani said he would make sure she was safe,” Laurel said.
“But his – and Shar’s – definition of safe may not quite match up with mine. Ours.” He looked between them. “We put her there. All of us. And I still think it was the right decision, but if it wasn’t . . . I don’t want to stand by and let it get worse.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Laurel asked, not willing to admit that she didn’t want to go back either.
“Maybe we can take shifts. One of us, one of them,” David said.
Chelsea rolled her eyes.
“Someone would have to stay all night,” Laurel said. “Which my parents would probably let me do, but—”
“Staying up all night isn’t really your thing,” David said, voicing Laurel’s concern.
“I can text my mom,” Chelsea offered. “I told her I’d probably spend the night at your house anyway – makes total sense after a big dance. And she never checks up on me.”
Laurel and Chelsea both turned to look at David. “I’ll think of something,” he mumbled. “What about Ryan?”
“What about him?” Chelsea asked, finding something interesting to examine on the steering wheel.
“He’s going to wonder why you keep running off at strange hours. You can’t always use Laurel as an excuse.”
“I don’t think he’ll notice,” Chelsea said.
“You can’t just assume that,” David retorted. “Don’t underestimate him. You always underestimate him.”
“I do not!”
“Well, he’s going to notice something if you suddenly start being “busy” all the time. And he’s going to want to spend time with you over the break. Especially after you ditched him almost every day last week to study for finals,” David said.
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Chelsea said ruefully, leaning back against her seat and meeting his eyes at last.
David just shook his head. “I don’t understand you. You were so worried about him when Yuki or Klea or whoever slipped him that memory elixir and now it’s like you don’t care at all.” He kicked the dirt at his feet. “Why don’t you just break up with him?”
“I did,” Chelsea said quietly.
David’s eyes darted from Chelsea to Laurel and back again. “You what?”
“How else was I supposed to justify running off in the middle of the dance . . . with you,” she added in a mumble.
“I was kidding!”
“I wasn’t. I was going to do it anyway.”
David looked to Laurel. “Did you know about this?”
Laurel glanced at Chelsea before nodding.
“Why?” David asked. “What went wrong?”
Chelsea opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“It was just time,” Laurel said, coming to the rescue. This wasn’t something anyone needed to talk about yet. Certainly not right now.
David shrugged, his face a mask of nonchalance. “Whatever. We’ve got to get back there. It’s going to be a long night.”
“So you just sit here?” Chelsea asked Tamani, her voice cracking a bit as she tried to hide a yawn.
The apartment was dark and quiet. Shar had taken the opportunity to lean his head against the wall and was getting a little much-needed sleep. That left Tamani chatting quietly with Chelsea, who had insisted on taking the first shift.
“Pretty much,” Tamani replied. “You can get s
ome sleep if you want to; the carpet is soft. Sorry the furniture is so . . .”
“Nonexistent?” Chelsea offered, straightening up in the simple wooden chair that normally sat, unused, at the kitchen table. “It’s OK, I’m really not that tired. Just kinda bored.” She paused before leaning close to Tamani. “Doesn’t she ever talk?”
“Yes, I talk,” Yuki hissed before Tamani could respond. “It’s not like you haven’t heard me talk a million times before. Remember back in the day, when we went to school together? I know last week must seem like ancient history now, but I thought you humans could at least remember back that far.”
Chelsea was still with her mouth agape before snapping it shut and muttering, “Well, sooor-ry!”
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Yuki said, fidgeting in her seat. “I’m stuck here for a couple days at worst. You’re stuck for the rest of your life.”
“What do you mean?” Chelsea asked, turning more fully toward Yuki.
“Don’t listen to her,” Tamani warned. “She just likes to get under your skin.”
“Chelsea Harrison,” Yuki continued, ignoring Tamani. “The perpetual third wheel. Always so close to what you desperately want, but never quite there.”
“Really,” Tamani said, shifting to place himself between Chelsea and Yuki. “She has nothing to say that you want to hear.” He couldn’t help but feel protective. The human girl had wormed her way into his good graces the last few months and he didn’t want her to be hurt by whatever was going to come out of Yuki’s mouth next.
“You really think you can compete?”
But Chelsea’s curiosity was almost as infamous as her honesty and she leaned forward so she could see Yuki again. “Compete with who?”
“Laurel, of course. Fact of the matter is, she doesn’t have to choose David – which she will,” Yuki added, doubtless for Tamani’s benefit. “But even if she doesn’t, you still lose. Let’s say everything happens like you dream. Laurel leaves David behind, and one day he turns around and realises, for the first time ever, that you’ve been standing there the whole time, just waiting to be noticed.”
Chelsea’s face flushed red, but her eyes never left Yuki’s.
“Suddenly you’re everything he never knew he always wanted. He adores you and – unlike your flaky boyfriend – is willing to go to college anywhere you want.”
“Who told y—”
“You go to Harvard, you move in together, maybe you even get married. But,” she said, leaning forward as far as she could, “Laurel will always be there in the back of his mind. All the adventures they had, the plans they made. She’s prettier than you, more magical than you, just plain better than you. Face it, you have no hope of ever being anything but a rebound. And you’ll have to live your life knowing that if it had been up to David, he would never have even gotten a chance to be with you. Laurel wins.”
Chelsea’s breathing was ragged. She stood, avoiding Tamani’s eyes. “I . . . I think I need some water.”
Tamani watched her disappear into the kitchen, just out of sight. He heard the tap start to run – and run. And run some more, much longer than necessary to fill a cup. After a full minute he stood and shot a glare at Yuki, who looked smug.
Shar lifted his head at the sound of Tamani’s footsteps. But Tamani waved a be right back sign at him.
Keeping Yuki in the corner of his eye, Tamani followed Chelsea to the kitchen, where she stood, facing away from him, arms braced on the sink. There was no cup in sight.
“You all right?” Tamani asked quietly, his voice just louder than the hiss of the tap.
Chelsea’s head jerked up. “Yeah, I . . .” She gestured aimlessly. “I couldn’t find a glass.”
Tamani opened a cupboard right in front of her and retrieved one, handing it to her wordlessly. She filled it under the flowing water and started to reach for the tap to turn it off, but Tamani stopped her. “Leave it on. Less likely she can hear us.”
Chelsea looked down at the running water – probably fighting the urge to not waste it – then nodded and withdrew her hand. Tamani stepped a little closer, half an eye still on Yuki’s blossom, barely visible around the corner.
“She’s wrong,” he said simply. “She makes everything she says sound true, but it’s twisted until it’s not really truth at all.”
“No, it’s absolutely true,” Chelsea said with surprising confidence. “Laurel is so much more than I will ever be. I hadn’t thought about how her effect on David could linger like that. But it will. Yuki’s right.”
“You can’t think that way. Laurel is very different from you, but you, you’re amazing all by yourself,” Tamani said, surprising himself by how much he meant it. He hesitated, then grinned. “You’re funnier than Laurel.”
“Oh, good,” Chelsea said dryly. “I’m sure a couple of well-timed jokes’ll win David’s heart over to me forever.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Tamani said. “Listen, seriously, you can’t compare yourself to a faerie. We’re plants. Our perfect symmetry is something you humans value for some reason. So on the outside, yeah, she’s going to look different from you. But that doesn’t make her better, and honestly, except for maybe in the beginning, I don’t think that’s what David saw in her.”
“So she’s better on the inside, too?” Chelsea muttered.
Now she’s being deliberately knot-headed. “No, listen, I just want you to understand what makes Yuki so wrong. In Avalon, everyone has the same kind of symmetry Laurel and I have. We do have a range of . . . beauty, I guess, but there’s nothing special about Laurel’s appearance. She even has a friend at the Academy who is practically her mirror image. If David somehow met Katya, or some faerie more beautiful than her, do you think he’d stop loving Laurel?”
“I gotta say, you’re really bad at this,” Chelsea grumbled.
“Sorry.” Tamani grimaced. “I didn’t mean to imply that he would never stop—”
Chelsea interrupted him with a small, pitiable sound. “It’s OK, I know what you’re trying to say. Really, the last thing you need to be doing is trying to convince people that Laurel’s nothing special. I don’t believe it; you don’t believe it. And considering the fact that you stealing her away is my only hope for any chance with David in the future, I hope you never do.”
“No, that’s not it at all.” He paused, thinking. “Laurel was gone for a long time, Chelsea. And even though she always had my love, I’ve looked at other girls in the past.” He couldn’t help but feel a little silly, making the confession. “There was one really beautiful faerie who I . . . danced with a couple times, at festivals. I haven’t seen her in years, but I have to tell you, since being able to really be with Laurel – to get to know her all over again – I haven’t thought of that faerie once. Seriously,” he added with a grin when Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “I barely remembered her enough to bring her up. I love Laurel, so she becomes the most beautiful faerie in the world to me, and no one else can compare.”
“Yes, I think we’ve established that Laurel is awesome,” Chelsea drawled. “I think so too. That’s kind of the problem.”
“No, I . . . Forget Laurel for a minute. Just listen to what I’m saying. I don’t know if David will ever love you. But if he does, if he really does, it won’t matter how pretty or exciting someone else might be. If he really loves you, you can’t possibly lose. Because he won’t see anyone as even remotely comparable to you.”
Chelsea looked up at him with her big grey eyes – eyes that begged for his words to be true. “Would you forget about Laurel, if you fell in love with me?”
Tamani sighed. “Sure, if it were possible for me to love anyone but her. I don’t think it is, though.”
“How does she resist you?” Chelsea asked, but her smile was back.
Tamani shrugged. “I wish I knew. How does David resist you?”
She laughed, for real this time, dissipating the tension that had filled the small kitchen.
“I wish
you success with him,” Tamani said, serious now.
“How altruistic of you,” Chelsea replied, rolling her eyes.
“No, really,” Tamani said, laying a hand on her arm and leaving it there until she looked up at him. “My own hopes aside, I know what it feels like to pine for someone. I know the pain it can bring.” He paused before whispering, “I wish us both success.” As they walked out of the kitchen together, he offered her a grin. “And the fact that the one depends on the other, well, chalk it up to a happy accident.”
Though Laurel’s eyes were open when her alarm rang, its shrill buzz still made her jump as it cut through the early morning half light. December 22. Normally this was a day she would spend helping her parents in their stores, or putting up last-minute decorations, listening to Christmas music, maybe making some holiday treats. She suspected this year wouldn’t be nearly so festive.
The sky was still murky as Laurel opened her closet and reached for one of her faerie-made shirts – it seemed fitting today, when she was truly fulfilling her role as an agent of Avalon. As she slipped the pink peasant top over her head, it felt more like armour than simple, gauzy fabric.
Just outside the front door, Laurel was met by a green-clothed sentry she didn’t recognise – there were just so many of them now! – looking very much like he wanted to stop her. “Sun’s coming up,” Laurel said, without waiting to hear what he had to say. “And I’m going to Tamani’s. You can check up on me in about five minutes. Now move.”
To her surprise, he did.
She glanced at the house as she was backing down the driveway, eyes lighting on her parents” darkened window. She still hadn’t told them what was going on, but that couldn’t last much longer. “It’s almost over,” she said, hoping she was right.
After a short drive Laurel knocked on the apartment door and waited for someone to let her in, bracing herself for the possibility of Shar answering. Not that it mattered; Shar was here somewhere, and she would have to face him eventually. But later was better than now and Laurel was relieved when Tamani’s face appeared behind the door.