Destined

  Klea’s voice – more hollow, but crisp enough to understand – came through next. “Honestly, Captain, is this really necessary? You’ve already blown my schedule all to hell by knocking out poor Yuki.”

  Knocked out a Winter? Tamani thought, both proud and incredulous. Wonder how he pulled that off.

  “I saw you burn,” Shar said, his voice simmering. “The blaze was so hot, no one could get near it for three days.”

  “Who doesn’t love a good fire?” she said, her tone mocking.

  “I made them test the ashes. Academy confirmed an Autumn faerie died in that fire.”

  “How diligent of you! But that’s why I left my blossom behind. I don’t think it would have fooled them if it hadn’t been fresh.”

  Laurel laid a hand on Tamani’s arm. “Is it—”

  Tamani shushed her gently and pulled the phone away from his face, hitting his own speakerphone button, then muting the microphone just in case.

  “Where did you find Yuki?” Shar’s voice said clearly.

  “Find? Oh, Captain, all it takes is a single seed, if you know what you’re doing. Work was slow when I had to rely on cuttings, but in the past few decades humans have made remarkable strides in cloning. I quickly discovered that every sprout has its own destiny, no matter its lineage. So it was only a matter of time before I got a Winter.”

  “Where did you get the seed, then?”

  “I really shouldn’t tell you,” Klea said, “but it’s just too good to keep to myself. I stole it from the Unseelie.”

  “You’re Unseelie, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Don’t lump me in with those wild-eyed zealots,” she snapped. “I never did find out where the Unseelie got the seed, not that it matters. One of them even saw me take it as I made my escape. Oh, she was so angry,” Klea said in a low whisper. “But then, I think you’re familiar with her, Shar de Misha.”

  Tamani closed his eyes, knowing how his friend must be feeling to discover the secret his mother had kept from him – the secret that might have saved so many lives. There was a long pause before Shar responded. “You have a pretty big stack of these vials here. The least you can do is tell me what I’m about to die for. You owe me that.”

  “The only thing you’re owed is a bullet in the head.”

  “So I should dump these, then,” Shar said. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

  As Shar baited Klea, his voice seemed to blare, filling the room with his careful prompts. Tamani could feel Laurel trying to catch his eye but now was not the time for one of their silent conversations. He forced himself to focus on the phone resting on the palm of his hand and did his best to breathe evenly.

  Klea hesitated. “Fine. Don’t think it will spare you. They took me a long time to make and I’d prefer not to waste them, but this is only the final batch. Most of it has already been used.”

  “Is this how you make the trolls immune to our poisons?”

  “In Avalon, you treat the ill. Here, humans have learned to prevent illnesses before they happen. This is basically the same thing. An inoculation of sorts. So yes, it makes them immune.”

  “Immune to faerie magic, you mean. Autumn magic.”

  Tamani hadn’t heard the word inoculation before, but its meaning was sickeningly clear. Klea was making an entire horde of trolls immune to Autumn magic. All their troubles over the last few years – the dart that hadn’t worked on Barnes two years ago; Laurel’s serum that had knocked out four trolls in the lighthouse, but not Barnes; the caesafum globe that had no effect on the trolls after the Autumn Hop only a few short months ago; the tracking serums that stopped working. It was all Klea’s doing.

  “That upper troll,” Shar said, catching on as quickly as Tamani had.

  “Oh, yes. You remember Barnes. He was my guinea pig, way back when. That didn’t pan out so well and he decided to turn on me. But I find it terribly soothing to have a contingency plan or two in place. Don’t you?”

  A forced laugh from Shar. “I could do with one of those about now myself.”

  “Well said!” Klea chirruped in a tone that made Tamani want to smash the phone. “But we both know you haven’t got one. You’re either stalling because you’re afraid to die – which is dreadfully unbecoming – or you think you’re going to miraculously get this information back to Avalon before I invade, which isn’t going to happen. So if you’d be so kind as to step out here where I can kill you—”

  “What do you think you’re going to do?” Shar interrupted, and Tamani forced himself to focus on Shar’s words instead of the terrifying images running through his head of what was about to happen to his best friend. “Torture Laurel until she tells you where the gate is? She won’t. She’s stronger than you think.”

  “What the hell do I need Laurel for? I know where the gate is. Yuki plucked that tidbit out of Laurel’s head almost a week ago.”

  Startled, Laurel looked up, her eyes pools of shock, but comprehension dawned on her face as Tamani made his own connections. Those headaches. The terrible one after the troll attack – when her mind would have been vulnerable and possibly turned to Avalon. Yuki’s phone call from Klea, the glittering look in her eyes – that must have been Klea’s plan the whole time, her motivation for sending trolls after them that night. And in addition to the smaller ones, Laurel had mentioned another massive headache in front of her locker, the last day of school – had even voiced concerns that Yuki might be the cause. But Tamani had dismissed it because they were about to capture her anyway. No wonder Klea had been so furious when Yuki insisted on staying for the dance – she’d completed her mission. She really had stayed out of misguided affection for Tamani.

  Tamani closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply, evenly. Now was not the time to lose control.

  “Then I just have one last request.” Tamani’s eyes flew open. There was something in Shar’s voice he didn’t like. An edge.

  “Tell Ari and Len I love them,” Shar said, coming through with increased clarity despite the quaver in his voice. “More than anything.”

  Icy fear filled Tamani’s chest. “No.” The barely audible plea slipped through Tamani’s lips.

  “That’s very sweet, but I’m not running a messaging service, Shar.”

  “I know, it’s just . . . ironic.”

  “Ironic? I don’t see how.”

  An incredible clattering sounded in the background, like a hundred crystal goblets shattering against the floor, and Laurel clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Let’s ask Tamani,” Shar said, and Tamani’s head jerked up at the sound of his own name. “He’s the language expert. Tamani, isn’t this what humans call irony? Because I never expected my last minutes in life would be spent figuring out how to use this damned phone.”

  “No!” Tamani yelled. “Shar!” He gripped the phone, helpless. The unmistakable blast of gunfire filled his ears and his stomach lurched as he slumped to his knees. Four shots. Five. Seven. Nine. Then silence as the phone went dead.

  “Tam?” Laurel’s voice was barely a whisper, her hands reaching for him.

  He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but kneel silently, his hand wrapped around his phone, his eyes begging the screen to light again, for Shar’s name to pop back up on the display, for his biting laugh to sound through the speakers as he tried to convince Tamani that the joke had actually been funny.

  But he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  Despite his shaking hands, Tamani managed to slide the phone back into his pocket as he stood. “It’s time,” he said, surprised at how steady his voice sounded. “Let’s go.”

  “Go?” Laurel said. She looked as shaky as Tamani felt. “Go where?”

  Yes, where? When they were hunting trolls, Shar had lectured him about sticking to his role as Laurel’s Fear-gleidhidh. Should he take Laurel and run away? His head spun as he tried to decide what was right. But the sound of the gunshots – the mental picture of bullets rip
ping into Shar – it was blocking out everything else.

  Tell Ari and Len I love them.

  Ariana and Lenore were in Avalon. Those weren’t simply tender last words; they were instructions.

  Tamani had received his final orders from Shar.

  “To the gate,” he said. “To Jamison. Shar didn’t have to tell Klea we were on the phone, but he did. You heard Klea – she was done with us. Shar made us a target again, to divide her attention and throw her off balance. He bought us the time we need to warn Avalon, so that’s what we do.” The pieces were coming together in his mind. “Now!” he added, already pulling his keys out of his pocket.

  He headed for the front door, but David stepped in front of him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” David said, putting up his hands. “Let’s wait for just a second here.”

  “Move,” Tamani said darkly.

  “Avalon? Now? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “No one asked you.” Of course he would pick now to fight over this.

  David’s eyes softened, but Tamani refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t want pity from a human. “Listen, man,” David said, “you just heard your best friend get mowed down. I barely knew him and I’m feeling pretty sick right now. Don’t make any rash decisions so soon after . . . after what just happened.”

  “What just happened? You mean Shar getting murdered?” The words were salt on his tongue and he tried not to let David know how much it ripped him apart to even say them. “Do you have any idea how many of my friends I’ve watched die?” Tamani demanded, even as he pushed the memories away. “This is hardly a first. And you know what I did? Every single time?”

  David shook his head, a convulsive shiver.

  “I picked up my weapon – hell, sometimes I picked up their weapons – and I kept doing my job until it was done. It’s what I do. Now I’m going to say it one more time: get out of my way!”

  David stepped hesitantly back, but stayed close by his side, wedging a foot in front of the door as Tamani reached it. “Then let me come with you,” he said. “I’ll drive. You can sit in the backseat and think for a while. Decide if this is really the right choice. And if you change your mind . . .” He spread his arms in a shrug.

  “Oh, so now you’re the hero? Now that Laurel’s here to see you?” Tamani said, feeling the grip he had on his temper begin to slip. “Last night you left. You ran away instead of doing what needed to be done with Yuki. I’ve been doing what needs to be done for eight years, David. And I haven’t failed or run away yet. If there’s one person who can keep Laurel safe, it’s me – not you!”

  When had he started yelling?

  “What’s going on?” A groggy voice made them all turn to the stairs, where Chelsea stood, her T-shirt wrinkled, the wild curls around her face a halo of darkness.

  “Chelsea.” Laurel pushed between David and Tamani, her arms steady and strong, forcing them both to take a step back. “It’s Shar. Klea . . . Klea got him. We have to go to Avalon. Right now.”

  Tamani couldn’t help but feel a sliver of pride that Laurel had sided with him.

  “You can go back to sleep, or home, or whatever you want. I’ll call you the minute we get back.”

  “No,” Chelsea said, the weariness in her voice gone. “If David’s going, I’m going too.”

  “David is not going!” Tamani insisted.

  “I just . . . I don’t want you guys to get hurt,” Laurel said, and Tamani could hear the strain in her voice.

  “Come on,” Chelsea pleaded softly. “We’ve been through everything with you. We do it together. That’s been our motto for months.”

  The last thing Tamani wanted was more passengers, and time wasn’t a luxury they had. He opened his mouth to declare exactly who was and was not coming, but the expression on Laurel’s face stopped him. She had her car keys in her hand and was giving them a strange look.

  “Tamani, my car is back at your apartment. And so is yours.”

  Tamani felt the fight drain from him like rain off maple leaves, leaving only the jagged sharpness of grief.

  David had the good sense to not smile.

  “Fine!” Tamani said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But they won’t let you through the gate, and in a couple hours, tops, those woods will be crawling with trolls and faeries and I won’t be there to protect you.” He gave Chelsea a look that begged her to stay. Stay where it was safe.

  Safer.

  Where at least there were sentries to watch over her. But as he met her determined gaze, he knew she wouldn’t.

  “I guess that’s a chance we’re going to have to take,” she said calmly.

  “My car’s in the driveway,” David offered, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

  Tamani lowered his chin. With the exception of Laurel, and possibly his mother, he didn’t think there was anyone in the whole world he loved as much as Shar. Even having Laurel here, looking up at him with empathy, couldn’t lighten the weight he felt pressing down on him. She moved closer, but he turned his face away; if he looked into her beautiful eyes one second longer, he was going to crack and lose it entirely. Instead he stood stoically and nodded, blinking a couple times.

  “OK. We have to move, though. Now.”

  “Wait,” Laurel said as David started the engine. “I have to call my mom.” She went to open the car door, but Tamani stopped her with a hand on her thigh.

  “Use this,” he said, handing her his mobile.

  It felt morbid to touch the phone, but Laurel braced herself and reached out to take it. She dialled the shop and silently begged for her mom to pick up.

  “Nature’s Cure!” her mom said. Just the familiar sound of her mother’s voice made her want to cry.

  “Mom,” Laurel said, realising she didn’t even know what to say.

  “We’re busy helping customers right now, but if you leave a message we’ll call you right back.”

  Laurel’s throat tightened. Just the machine. She waited for the beep and took a deep breath. “H-hi, Mom,” Laurel said, clearing her throat as her voice cracked. “We . . . we’re leaving. We’re going to Avalon,” Laurel said quickly, glad her mother was the only person at the store who had the voice-mail password. “Shar – Shar got caught, and we have to go tell Jamison.”

  She wasn’t sure what else to say; hated that it was a recording. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you,” Laurel whispered before jabbing her finger against the End Call button. She stared down at the phone in her hand for a long moment, knowing that if she looked anywhere else or tried to speak, she would start to cry. She hoped, prayed, that those weren’t the last words her parents would hear from her.

  Tamani reached out his hand.

  After a shuddering breath Laurel returned the phone to him. He flipped through his contact list and put the phone to his ear.

  “Aaron. Shar is dead. Klea has Yuki and an army of trolls. They’re immune to Autumn magic and they know where the gate is. I’m taking Laurel to Avalon. When you’ve finished cleaning up at the apartment, I suggest you gather everyone who isn’t watching Laurel’s parents and head to the land. You’ll probably end up nipping at Klea’s heels. Goddess protect you.”

  Every word came out evenly, tonelessly. But when Tamani ended the call, he turned the phone off and dropped it on the seat as though it had burned him. Laurel wondered if he would ever pick it up again.

  Two final messages – one a heartfelt good bye, one a seemingly calm business call, despite its devastating message.

  Laurel shuddered. It would almost have been better if Tamani had shouted, raged. But he was hiding everything, even from her, as he sat, his head pressed against the window. She felt helpless.

  About five miles outside Crescent City, though, he ran one hand down Laurel’s arm and laced his fingers through hers, pulling her very subtly closer. His eyes remained fixed on the scenery outside his window, but his tight grip was sign enough that he needed an anchor. She found herself strangely proud to be the one
he finally reached for. Even if her fingers were starting to ache.

  No one said anything for most of the trip, at least in part because Chelsea had gone back to sleep, curled awkwardly in the semi-reclined passenger seat. It was probably good she hadn’t heard Shar’s call; no doubt sleep wouldn’t come easily if she had. Eventually, a rough stretch of asphalt jostled her awake, and she unbuckled her seat belt so she could turn round and talk to Laurel and Tamani.

  “So, um, when we get there, what do we do?” Her eyes dropped briefly to Laurel and Tamani’s joined hands, but she said nothing.

  Tamani turned from the window for the first time, his face – even his eyes – calm. “We go to the gate, we explain our urgency, request entrance, and if we’re lucky, they let us in. And by us, I mean Laurel and me. No human has set foot in Avalon in over a thousand years.”

  “We want to help,” David said. “You don’t think they’ll let us?”

  Tamani’s hand slid out of Laurel’s as he leaned forwards. “We’ve been over this,” he said, not unkindly. “Your help is not the kind they’re going to want. I suggest you drop us off and drive away as quickly as possible. Go south – not back to Laurel’s house. The sentries there will protect your parents,” he said, turning briefly to Laurel, “but the last thing they need is more people to confuse everything. Go to Eureka, or McKinleyville.” He hesitated. “Go . . . Christmas shopping or something.”

  “The mall the week before Christmas. Sounds awesome,” Chelsea drawled.

  “Go eat pie in Orick, then. Point is, don’t go back to Crescent City, preferably until tomorrow or the next day.”

  “How are we supposed to explain that to our parents?” David asked.

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before you insisted on coming,” Tamani said, his tone somehow sharper without gaining the slightest bit of volume.

  David just shook his head. “We’re on the same side, man.”