Tamani looked down and Laurel heard him take a few sharp, shallow breaths before raising his head and saying, more calmly now, “Even if they let you in, you’ll probably be in Avalon for at least that long. Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time to decide what to say to your mother.”
“I’m going to tell my mom that David and Laurel tried to elope,” Chelsea deadpanned. “I only came along to try and talk them out of it. She’ll forgive just about anything if she thinks I’m protecting Laurel’s virtue.”
Laurel realised her mouth was hanging open and she slapped Chelsea on the shoulder.
“I’ve been saving that one for an emergency,” Chelsea said proudly to no one in particular, facing front and putting her seat belt back on as David turned off the main road.
The sight of the cabin, nestled among the mighty redwoods, sent a fresh wave of sadness through Laurel. The last time she’d been here was with Tamani, and it had been one of the most wonderful days of her life. Even now, the memory sent shivers through her body. Life suddenly seemed so fragile and uncertain; she wondered if she and Tamani would ever have another day like that. And, Laurel realised, she desperately wanted one. She looked over at him; his gaze was fixed on the cabin as well. Then he turned and their eyes met, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing.
“Where should I park the car?” David asked. “They’ll see it when they come.”
“If they arrive before you’re gone, it’ll be too late to worry,” Tamani said, breaking his stare. “May as well leave it right here.”
They started walking toward the forest when Tamani stopped them, his face deadly serious. “David, Chelsea, as I said before, there have only been the barest handful of humans admitted into Avalon. But those who have . . . sometimes, they don’t come back. If you come with us into the forest, I don’t know what will happen. And I don’t know what would be worse – if they turn you away at the gate, with no time to get back to your car, or if they were to actually let you in.”
He held David’s gaze for a long time before David nodded once. Then he turned his eyes to Chelsea.
“I can’t stay here,” she said softly. “I would hate myself for the rest of my life.”
“Fair enough,” Tamani said, almost under his breath. “Then let’s go.”
Tamani led the way down the serpentine path, moving through the forest with such confidence and determination that Laurel and her friends almost had to run to keep up. Laurel knew there had to be sentries marking their progress, and around every corner she expected them to appear, as they had often done when she’d entered the forest with Tamani. But the woods remained eerily still.
“Are we too late?” Laurel whispered.
Tamani shook his head. “We’re with humans,” he said simply.
When they at last came into sight of the ancient ring of trees surrounding the gate, a sentry finally showed his face, popping up practically in front of Tamani and placing one hand on his chest. Tamani stopped with such grace, an onlooker might have thought he had intended to stop at that exact spot all along.
“You’re on dangerous ground, bringing them so close, Tam,” the sentry said.
“I will be treading more dangerous ground when I ask permission to bring them into Avalon,” Tamani said flatly.
Shock splayed across the other sentry’s face. “You – you can’t! It’s not done!”
“Step aside,” Tamani said. “I don’t have time.”
“You cannot do this,” the sentry said, refusing to move. “Until Shar returns, we can’t even—”
“Shar is dead,” Tamani said, and a hush of reverence seemed to ripple through the trees. After waiting a few seconds – perhaps to let the news sink in, perhaps to gather his own courage – Tamani continued. “As second-in-command of this assignment, his authority falls to me, at least until the Council meets. Now I say again, step aside.”
The sentry shrank back and Tamani strode forward, his chin held high. “Sentries, my . . .” His voice faltered ever so slightly. “My first twelve to the front.” Those words were Shar’s words, the beginning of a ritual that would transform a gnarled old tree into a shining golden gate. Words Laurel had heard often enough to know their significance.
Eleven sentries joined the one that had stopped their progress, and Chelsea gasped softly as they formed a semicircle in front of the tree. They were quite a sight; all wore armour that had been meticulously camouflaged, and most carried dark-shafted spears with diamond tips. Several had hair tinged green at the roots, as Tamani and Shar used to wear. Out of their element, they would probably look quaint – perhaps even silly. But here in the forest, Laurel found it impossible to think of them as anything but mighty guardians.
As each sentry approached to place one hand on the twisted old tree, Laurel realised her friends were seeing it for the first time, and remembered her own first time witnessing the transformation. How different things were now. Then, Tamani had been shot and Shar had summoned Jamison to save his friend’s life. Now, Shar was dead, and Tamani was trying to save . . . everyone.
The familiar low, melodic hum filled the forest as the tree shook, the light of the clearing gathering around its misshapen branches, giving it an ethereal glow. The tree appeared to split in two, moulding itself into some semblance of an archway. Then came the final flash, so bright the clearing seemed to burn, and they were standing in front of the beautiful golden portal that barred the gateway to Avalon.
Laurel sneaked a glance over her shoulder. Chelsea seemed ready to explode with glee. David just stood there, his mouth slightly agape.
“Now I need to contact—”
Tamani stopped, looking puzzled. The blackness behind the bars of the gate began to resolve into shapes, and soon Laurel saw an old, withered hand curl around the bars, slowly pulling the gate open. Jamison stood there, his face lined with concern. Laurel wasn’t sure she had ever seen such a welcome sight. It was all she could do not to leap forward and throw her arms around him.
But why was he already at the gate?
“Laurel, Tam!” He beckoned. “Please, come closer.”
The sentries closed ranks behind them as Laurel, Tamani, David, and Chelsea all approached the gate. Jamison did not move from his spot in the middle of the gateway – was he going to turn them away?
“I received a most distressing message from the Manor,” said Jamison. “Is it true that Shar has left us?”
Tamani nodded silently.
“I’m very sorry,” Jamison intoned, laying a hand on Tamani’s arm. “It is a devastating loss.”
“He died to protect Avalon,” Tamani replied, only the barest hint of mourning in his tone.
“From him, I would expect no less,” Jamison said, straightening, “but the Manor only passed along a message sent by Aaron, who gave no details except to say that I should meet you here. I appreciate his discretion; we don’t want to throw anyone into a panic. But now it falls to you to fill in the details so we can make sure our good captain’s sacrifice was not in vain.”
“The Wildling,” Tamani began. “She’s a Winter faerie raised by Klea.” Jamison’s eyes widened as Tamani continued. “She was sent to pull the location of the gate from Laurel’s head – which she was able to do last week.”
Guilt surged through Laurel as she watched concern deepen the lines on Jamison’s face.
“It’s not her fault,” Tamani added. “We discovered Yuki’s caste too late to prevent it.”
“No, of course,” Jamison said, smiling sadly at Laurel. “Not your fault at all.”
“As we suspected, Klea is the Autumn faerie who poisoned Laurel’s father.” He hesitated. “She is also the exile Callista.”
“Callista,” Jamison said, surprise on his face, then a look of regret. “That is a name I had not imagined I would hear again in this life.”
“I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it.”
Jamison shook his head, looking decidedly weary.
“Klea �
�� Callista – has been creating serums that make trolls immune to Autumn magic. That’s why we’ve had so much trouble tracking and fighting them. She apparently has an army of these trolls and” – he took a deep breath – “they will be here soon. Likely within the hour.”
For a long moment, Jamison did not respond – he seemed scarcely even to breathe. Laurel wished he would say something, anything. Then his expression changed and he looked at Laurel with a strange light glowing in his eyes.
“Who are your friends?” Jamison asked abruptly, taking a small step forwards. “Please, introduce me.”
“David and Chelsea,” Laurel said, confused, “this is Jamison.”
Chelsea and David each offered their hands – Chelsea, breathlessly – and Jamison held onto David’s for several seconds. “David,” Jamison said pensively. “That is the name of a great king in human mythology, is it not?”
“Um, yes . . . sir,” David said.
“Interesting. A Winter faerie, immune trolls, and possibly the most talented Autumn faerie in Avalon’s history are arrayed against us,” Jamison said, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “Not in more than a millennium has Avalon been so threatened. And here are two humans who have already proven their loyalty.” He glanced over his shoulder, off into Avalon. “Perhaps it is destined.”
“The Queen will be with us soon,” Jamison said as they passed through the shadows from the branches that shaded the gateways. “Quickly, tell me more of what has happened.”
While Tamani caught Jamison up, David and Chelsea took in their surroundings. The armoured female sentries that made up the gate guard kept their distance, as did Jamison’s Am Fear-faire, but they were all standing to attention around the gateway, looking quite splendid. Chelsea stared openly and with undisguised wonder.
David’s reaction was more reserved. He looked at everything from the trees lining paths of soft black soil to the sentries eyeing the golden gates, with the same expression he wore when reading a textbook or peering through a microscope. Chelsea was delighting; David was studying.
When Tamani revealed that they’d taken Yuki prisoner, Jamison stopped him with a tense hand on his arm. “What did Shar do to contain a Winter faerie?”
Tamani glanced nervously at Laurel. “We, uh, chained her to an iron chair, with iron handcuffs . . . inside a circle of salt, sir.”
Jamison took a slow breath and glanced over his shoulder just as the great wooden doors to the garden swung open. Then he turned back and clapped Tamani on the shoulder, laughing loudly, but with obvious falseness. “Oh, my boy. Iron manacles. Surely you couldn’t have believed that would work for long.”
Queen Marion was making her way through the gate, surrounded by a passel of Am Fear-faire.
“It wasn’t the chains that did it,” Laurel corrected. “It was—”
“The iron chair was a nice touch. Still,” Jamison said, with a hard look at the group, “I suppose you make do with what you have, in a situation like that. You are all lucky to have escaped with your lives,” he finished, stepping back to greet the Queen.
Laurel didn’t understand. Why did he want them to lie?
Without a word, Queen Marion raked Chelsea and David with her eyes, betraying only a touch of the shock that must have rippled through her. “You’ve brought humans through the gate?” she asked without greeting, and not only turned her back on them, but angled her shoulders so they were cut out of the circle, left to stand awkwardly on their own. Laurel flashed them an apologetic look.
“They were with Laurel and the captain, and their situation was so dire I felt I had no choice,” Jamison said as though he had noticed neither the Queen’s icy tone nor her blatant snub.
“There is always a choice, Jamison. Show them out,” she added.
“Of course; as soon as possible,” Jamison said, but he made no move to do as she asked. “Where is Yasmine?”
“I left her outside. You spoke of a threat to the crown,” Marion said. “Surely you don’t think the child should be exposed to such things.”
“I think she is nowhere near a child anymore. Nor has she been for quite some time,” Jamison said softly.
The Queen raised her eyebrows. “It matters not,” she continued after a brief pause. “What is this supposed emergency?”
Jamison deferred to Laurel and Tamani and, with a show of great reluctance, the Queen turned to listen as Tamani gave a much-abbreviated version of the events of the past few days, skipping the circle of salt with only the barest glance at Jamison.
“We expect that Klea – or Callista, as she was known here – will arrive with her entire force within the next hour. Maybe less. With her ability to conceal gathering places, we have no way to know their numbers, but based on the vials Shar . . .”
Tamani’s voice caught, and Laurel suppressed the urge to reach out a comforting hand. Now was not the time – but the pain in his voice as he spoke his mentor’s name made her want to weep.
“Based on the shelf full of serum and Klea’s claim that it was the last of many batches, there—” He paused. “There could be thousands.”
The Queen was silent for a few moments, two perfectly symmetrical thought lines creasing her brow. Then she turned and called, “Captain?”
A young female faerie in full armour stepped forward and bowed low.
“Send runners,” the Queen instructed. “Summon all the commanders and mobilise the active sentries.”
Laurel took advantage of the Queen’s momentary distraction to lean close to Tamani and whisper, “Why wouldn’t Jamison listen to you about the circle?”
Tamani shook his head. “There are some things even Jamison cannot pardon.”
Laurel’s chest tightened as she wondered just what kind of punishment could provoke Jamison to encourage them to lie to his monarch.
“Shall we prepare for a military council then, Your Majesty?” Jamison asked as the young captain turned and began issuing orders.
“Goodness, no,” Marion said, her tone light. “With a few instructions, the captains should manage on their own. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” Tamani said, clearly shocked. Laurel had rarely seen him speak so boldly in Avalon, and never in the presence of a Winter faerie.
Marion fixed him with a withering stare. “Leaving the Garden,” she amended, before turning to Jamison. “You, Yasmine, and I will retreat to the Winter Palace and defend it while the Spring fae do their duty here at the gate.” She turned to survey the milling sentries. “We will require some additional support, of course. Four companies should be sufficient to ensure our safety, along with our Am Fear-faire and—”
“We can’t go,” Jamison said firmly.
“We can’t stay,” Marion replied in an equally firm tone. “The Winter faeries always guard the palace and themselves in times of danger. Even the great Oberon stepped back to preserve himself when the battle raged its fiercest. Do you think yourself greater than he?”
“This is different,” Jamison said calmly. “Trolls are already immune to Enticement; these trolls will be immune to Autumn magic as well. If we leave the gate, our warriors will have no magic to counter their enemies” strength. There will be slaughter.”
“Nonsense,” Marion replied. “Even if the beasts have figured out how to evade tracking serums and some rudimentary defence potions, it’s hardly the tragedy you’re making it out to be. You there, tell me, how many trolls have you killed in your life?”
It took Tamani a moment to realise he was being addressed. “Ah, I don’t know. Perhaps a hundred?”
A hundred? Laurel almost gasped at the number. So many? But then, in almost ten years as a sentry outside Avalon, could she really be surprised? He had killed about ten just in her presence.
“And how many of those did you kill with the aid of Autumn magic?” The Queen continued, not fazed by the number at all.
Tamani opened his mouth, but no words came out. Laurel realised there was no right answer; if the Queen
found his reliance on Autumn magic high, she would tell him he was incompetent – if it was low, she would use that to prove her point.
“Come, Captain, time is short and precision unnecessary. Would you guess half? A third?”
“About that, Your Majesty.”
“You see, Jamison? Our sentries are quite capable of killing trolls without our assistance.”
“And what of the two rogues?” Jamison asked.
“The Winter is untrained – aside from her power to open the gate, she is no threat at all. And the Autumn is outnumbered, along with any others she might bring.”
No threat?
“You always underestimated Callista,” Jamison said before Laurel could speak up.
“And you always overestimated her. You were wrong then, and by the end of the day I expect you will discover that you are wrong now.”
Jamison said nothing, and the Queen turned away from them; never in her life had Laurel felt so dismissed.
The Gate Garden became a hurricane of brightly coloured uniforms as orders were given and messages sent. Jamison stood motionless until the Queen approached the gateway to Japan to let a messenger through. Then, at last, he frowned, and Laurel could almost see him gather his will.
“Come,” he said quietly, turning his back to the flood of sentries. “Gather your friends. We have to get to the Winter Palace.” His pale-blue robes flared out as he spun to face the far wall of the Garden.
“Jamison!” Laurel said, leaping after him, Tamani close by her side, David and Chelsea following with confusion written on their faces. “You can’t honestly be doing what she said!”
“Quiet,” Jamison whispered, pulling them a few steps away. “I beg you to trust me. Please.”
Fear raced through Laurel, but she knew that if there was anyone in the world worthy of her trust it was Jamison. Tamani hesitated a moment longer, staring back at the California sentries now coming in through the gate, conferring with their peers. But when Laurel tugged on his fingertips, Tamani turned to follow the elderly Winter faerie.
“This way,” Jamison said, indicating a tree with a barrel-shaped trunk and a wide berth of shading leaves. “Hurry! Before my Am Fear-faire realise I’m leaving.”
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