“If she had any idea…” Laurel let her words trail away.
“What’s the plan?” David asked, changing the subject.
Tamani answered. “You take me to this house, I take care of the trolls, you bring me back. Pretty simple.”
“Tell me more about these trolls,” David said. “They were the scariest things I’ve ever seen.”
“I hope it stays that way.”
David shivered. “Me too. When they took us to the river, this…this troll lifted me like I weighed nothing. I’m not that small of a guy.”
“Meh, taller than me, I’ll give you that.” Tamani turned toward Laurel and his condescending tone disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Trolls are—well, they’re almost a glitch in evolution. They’re animals, like you, David—primates, even. But they’re not quite human. Stronger than humans, as you discovered—able to heal faster, too. It’s like evolution tried to make a superhuman of sorts, but it got a little messed up.”
“Just because they’re ugly?” David asked.
“Being ugly is just a side effect. The problem is that they don’t match.”
“What do you mean, match?” Laurel asked.
“They lack symmetry. Symmetry’s what’s different about faeries too. Humans, they’re mostly symmetrical—as near as animals can be with their chaotic cells. Two eyes, two arms, two legs. All the same length and proportions—more or less. Impressive, really, considering.”
“Considering what?” David asked hotly.
“Considering your cells are so irregular. You can’t deny it; not if you’re as smart as Laurel keeps telling me.” The remark was made with simmering undertones, but it apparently placated David. “Laurel and me”—he stroked her neck as he said it—“we’re exactly symmetrical. If you could bend us in half, every part would match precisely. That’s why Laurel looks so much like one of your fashion models. Symmetry.”
“And the trolls aren’t?” Laurel asked, desperate to turn the subject away from her.
Tamani shook his head. “Not even close. You remember you told me Barnes’s eye drooped and his nose was off-center? There’s your physical asymmetry. Although it’s very subtle in him. It’s not normally that way. I’ve seen troll babies so badly misshapen that even their ugly mothers wouldn’t keep them. Legs growing out of their heads, necks set sideways into shoulders. It’s a terrible sight. Long, long ago the faeries would try to take them in. But when evolution has given up on you, death is unavoidable. And it’s more than just the physical. The stupider you are—the worse evolution screwed you up—the less symmetrical you are.”
“Why don’t the trolls die out?” David asked.
“Unfortunately, they have their successes as well as failures; trolls like Barnes who can blend into the human world. Some can even exercise a degree of control over humans. We have no idea how many, but they could be everywhere.”
“How can you tell them apart from humans?”
“That’s the problem—it’s not that easy. Nearly impossible, sometimes—though not as a sentry. Trolls simply don’t respond to our magic.”
“Not at all?” Laurel asked.
“Not Spring magic, at any rate. And a shame, too. Would make my job today a lot easier. There are a few signs that set trolls apart from humans, but many of them can be hidden.”
“What kind of signs?” Laurel asked.
“Originally, trolls lived underground because the sunlight was too hard on their skin. With modern inventions like sun-block and lotion, they’re much better off, but even so, their skin is rarely healthy.”
Laurel winced, remembering the way Bess’s skin had cracked and feathered around her collar.
“Along with the asymmetry, their eyes are often different colors, but contact lenses can hide that well enough too. The only way you would probably be sure is to either observe their strength or catch them eating a big hunk of bloody meat.”
“Barnes was fascinated by the blood on my arm,” Laurel said.
“You don’t bleed,” Tamani said.
“Well, it wasn’t my blood; it was David’s.”
“On your arm?”
Laurel nodded. “He cut his arm coming through the window. Same time I cut my back.”
“A good amount of blood?” Tamani asked.
“Enough to cover Barnes’s palm when he grabbed me.”
Tamani chuckled. “That explains throwing you in the river. No troll in their right mind would try to drown a faerie. He didn’t know what you are.”
“Why would he know?”
Tamani sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s very easy for trolls to distinguish humans from faeries. A troll’s sense of smell is keenly tuned to blood, and faeries don’t have any. Unless you’re blossoming, a troll won’t be able to smell you at all. Coming upon what looks like a human who has no scent of blood would tip him off immediately.”
“But David bled on me. So he smelled enough blood that he didn’t suspect?”
“It’s the only logical explanation.”
“What about in the hospital?”
“Hospitals reek of blood to a troll. Even bleach doesn’t dim the smell. He wouldn’t have noticed ten faeries in a hospital.”
“And at your house,” David said, “I smelled like smoke from the bonfire.”
“He came to your house!” Tamani said, the hand on Laurel’s shoulder tightening a little. “You forgot to mention that.”
“A long time ago. I didn’t know what he was.”
Tamani’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “You’ve been very, very lucky. If he’d have realized what you were before, you’d probably be dead right now.”
Laurel’s head was starting to spin and she leaned back against the headrest—right against Tamani’s cheek. She didn’t rectify her mistake.
They neared Brookings and Tamani began grilling Laurel about the layout of the house. “It would be easier if I came with you,” she protested after describing the house in every way she could think of. Which wasn’t much—it had been too dark.
“Not a chance. I won’t risk you—you’re too important.”
“I’m not that important,” Laurel grumbled, sliding down in her seat a little.
“You’re set to inherit the land, Laurel. Don’t take that lightly.”
“I could help—be a backup.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Why?” Laurel snapped. “Because I’m not some specially trained sentry?”
“Because it’s too dangerous,” Tamani snapped back, raising his voice. He sat back in his seat. “Don’t make me lose you again,” he whispered.
She knelt on the seat and turned around to look at him. His face was just visible in the early morning glow. “What if I make sure to stay out of sight? If something happens to you, we’ll need to know.”
His face didn’t change.
“I won’t try to fight or anything,” she promised.
Tamani paused and mulled this over for a few seconds. “If I say no, are you going to follow me anyway?”
“Of course.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Listen to me.” He leaned forward, his nose almost touching hers as he spoke quietly but with an intensity that almost made Laurel wish she hadn’t brought it up in the first place. “If there’s trouble, you let me go. You drive straight back to Shar and tell him what happened. You promise?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t leave you.”
“I want your word, Laurel.”
“It won’t happen anyway. Like you told Shar, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Your word.”
Laurel bit at her lower lip, wondering if there was some way to get out of this. But Tamani was not going to leave it alone. “Fine,” she said sullenly.
“Then you can come.”
“What about me?” David asked.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?” David demanded, gripping the steering whe
el. “I’d be more of a help than Laurel—no offense,” he added with a smile.
“Well, I guess you can come,” Tamani said, smiling wickedly, “if you want to be bait.”
“Tamani!” Laurel protested.
“It’s true. Not only is he human, he’s got open wounds. Barnes would smell him a hundred feet away. Maybe more. He’s bait, or he doesn’t come.” Tamani leaned forward again and lightly punched David’s shoulder in what anyone else would have thought was a friendly gesture, but Laurel knew better. “No, mate. I suggest you man the getaway car.”
David couldn’t argue. Not unless he wanted to insist on being bait.
They pulled off the 101 onto Alder just as the sky was pinking up. As they reached Maple and began to retrace the route she and David had taken the night before, Laurel grew more and more nervous. She’d been so confident and arrogant last night. She’d known she was right and had been determined to find answers. Now she knew firsthand just what she was up against, and her confidence was rapidly dwindling.
“Tamani?” she asked, even though she knew this was the wrong time. “How is a plant supposed to beat a superstrong troll?”
For once Tamani did not grin. His face was stony and his eyes hooded. “Stealth,” he replied softly. “Stealth and speed. It’s the only advantage I have.”
Laurel didn’t like the sound of that.
TWENTY-TWO
DAVID’S CIVIC ROLLED SLOWLY INTO THE SEA CLIFF cul-de-sac. “It’s that one down at the end,” Laurel said, pointing.
“Let’s stop here, then,” Tamani said.
David pulled the car onto the curb and the three sat looking at the large house. In the early morning light, they could now tell it had once been gray. Laurel studied the splintery curved trim on the eaves and the embellished window frames and tried to envision the beautiful home it must have been a hundred years ago. How long had it belonged to the trolls? She shivered, wondering if they’d bought the house or simply slaughtered the family and taken possession. At the moment, the latter seemed much more likely.
Tamani was pulling a belt from his pack and checking its little pockets. He handed her a leathery strap that held a small knife. “Just in case,” he said.
The knife felt heavy in her hand, and for a few seconds she just stared at it.
“It goes around your waist,” Tamani prompted.
Laurel shot him a glare but pulled the strap around her middle and buckled it.
“Ready?” Tamani asked. His face was serious now. The strands of hair hanging over his forehead cast long shadows that looked like stripes across his eyes. His brows were furrowed in concentration and a small crease stood out on his forehead, marring what could have been an advertisement featuring a brooding male model.
“Ready,” she whispered.
Tamani stepped out of the backseat and closed the door very softly. Laurel unbuckled her seatbelt and felt David’s hand on her shoulder. His eyes darted momentarily to Tamani when she looked up at him. “Don’t go,” he whispered fiercely.
She squeezed his hand. “I have to. I can’t let him go alone.”
David set his jaw and nodded grimly. “Come back,” he ordered.
Laurel couldn’t get her mouth to form the words, but she nodded and pushed her door open. Tamani stuck his head down and looked at David. “In about ten minutes, go ahead and pull up a little closer. If anyone in that house doesn’t know we’re there by that time, it’s because we’re dead.”
David swallowed.
“Keep a very careful watch. If one of them comes to get you in the car, drive away—if they can reach you, it’s too late for us. Drive to the land and tell Shar.”
Laurel didn’t like that part.
Tamani hesitated. “I’m sorry I can’t let you do more,” he said, his tone sincere. “Truly I am.” He closed the door, took Laurel’s hand, and walked toward the house without looking back.
Laurel looked over her shoulder and stared at David for a long time before turning around.
They made their way around the sprawling house in much the same way David and Laurel had gone the night before. Laurel felt her chest tighten as she retraced her steps and crept closer to the creatures that had tried to kill her. Who walks willingly back to their own death? she asked herself with a shake of her head. But she kept her eyes on Tamani’s back. His confident stance, even while sneaking along the wall, gave her courage. I’m here for him, she repeated over and over in her mind till it started to sound reasonable.
As they approached the smashed window, Tamani’s hand shot out and held her still against the peeling siding. He peeked into the destroyed window frame, which the trolls had not even bothered to board up, and dug into one of the pockets on his belt. He drew out what looked like a brown straw and slipped something small into it. He dropped to one knee and sprawled out away from the wall, exposing himself for just an instant to whoever might have been in the room. He blew on the straw and Laurel heard something whiz through the air.
Then Tamani was on his belly, crawling under the splintered sill toward the very back of the house. Laurel followed him, ducking onto her belly too. “What did you do?” she whispered.
But Tamani only held a finger over his lips and continued to creep forward. In a few more seconds, Laurel heard the soft buzz of conversation. Several feet ahead Tamani had stopped and was surveying what little he could see around the corner. He looked up at an ancient trellis, and a tiny grin touched his lips. He turned to her, pointed at the ground beside him, and mouthed, “Stay.”
Laurel wanted to argue, but as her eyes found cracks and breaks in the trellis, she decided her extra weight would be exceptionally unhelpful. Tamani scaled the trellis silently—something Laurel hadn’t thought was possible with the rickety wooden web—and looked more like an agile monkey ascending a tree than anything remotely human.
Laurel crouched by the corner of the house and peeked around the side. Scarface and his friend were lounging on a dirty couch on the equally dirty porch. Their voices were too low for Laurel to catch what they were saying but, considering their conversation in the car the previous night, that was probably best.
Scarface yawned and the other troll looked close to falling asleep. Laurel heard the tiniest skitter as Tamani made his way across the roof, but apparently the two trolls were too tired or distracted, because neither of them even glanced up.
Even though she was expecting him, Laurel had to suppress a yelp of surprise as Tamani came flying down from the roof and swung to land gracefully in front of the trolls. His hands shot out like two blurs and clunked their heads together with a dull thud. They slumped into the couch cushions and didn’t move.
Laurel took one step and crunched a dried leaf.
“Wait,” Tamani said softly. “Let me finish first. You don’t want to see this.”
It was too great a temptation. He wasn’t looking at her, so she didn’t pull her head back around the corner—just watched in rapt fascination, wondering what he was going to do.
Tamani braced his knee against Scarface’s shoulder and held his face in both hands. By the time Laurel realized what was going to happen, it was too late. Her eyes refused to close as Tamani snapped the troll’s head around and a sickening crunch assaulted her ears. Tamani leaned Scarface back onto the cushion and, as he turned his attention to the other troll, she couldn’t help but look at the limp face—devoid of life and, for the first time, not wound up in a sneer.
When Tamani lifted his knee to the other troll’s shoulder, Laurel quickly pulled herself back around the corner and shoved her fingers in her ears. Not that it mattered. The snap of Red’s neck found its way to her inner ears and her mind filled in what her eyes couldn’t see. Tamani’s soft finger on her shoulder made her jump.
“Come on, we need to keep going.” Tamani tucked Laurel under the arm farthest from the dead trolls, but she still peeked around him to look at the two forms that appeared to simply be sleeping.
“Did you have to
do that?” she whispered, trying to remember that these men had attempted to kill her and David. But they looked so harmless in the dim morning light with their deformed faces slack and peaceful.
“Yes. One of the rules of the sentries is to never leave a hostile troll alive. It’s something I’m sworn to do. I told you—you shouldn’t have come.”
He took an instant to grab something from his belt and sprayed the hinges of the back door. When he swung the door open, it moved silently. Laurel remembered Bess and followed Tamani very hesitantly. But she was lying limp on the floor. Tamani crouched beside her and removed a small dart from her neck. Laurel remembered the brown straw and realized what he had done.
“Is she dead?” Laurel whispered.
Tamani shook his head. “Just sleeping. The death darts are much bigger and don’t work as quickly. She’d have gotten out a few good yelps and ruined everything.” He was reaching into his belt again. He sighed as he unscrewed a small bottle. “These are the ones I always regret. The ones too stupid to know what they’re doing. They’re no more guilty than a lion or tiger that stalks their prey, at least in the beginning. But once they’re taught to be vicious faerie haters that obey their masters’ every order, they’ll never stop being dangerous.” He pulled down one of Bess’s eyelids and squeezed out two drops of yellow liquid. “She’ll be dead in a few minutes,” he said, putting the bottle back into his pack.
He turned to Laurel and set his face close to hers so he could whisper right by her ear. “I don’t know where the other one is. If we can find him and catch him by surprise, it’ll be easy. So follow me, but not another word from here on out. Okay?”
Laurel nodded and hoped she could walk half as quietly as he did. She’d never in her life felt clumsy—she’d always had more grace than her peers—but compared to Tamani, she was downright stumbly. By watching Tamani’s feet and stepping right in his footsteps, she managed to traverse the stairs more or less silently.
They walked by three doorways with nothing in them but sheet-covered furniture and swirling dust motes. Tamani peeked around the fourth doorway and immediately reached for his belt. Laurel could see Barnes’s shadow, elongated across the floor by the sunlight from the eastern window, and somehow even the shadow profile was unmistakable. Tamani pulled out the long straw again and rose to one knee. He took a breath and aimed carefully. With a small puff the dart flew.
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