Destined (11 page)

“Back door,” Rowen said, the wispy voice so bizarre coming from that massive body.

“As soon as the door opens, you show Rhoslyn who you really are before she can hurt you.”

Rowen nodded.

Tamani hugged her again, his body sinking into the illusion, creating a grotesque Tamani-troll hybrid. “Now run,” Tamani said, pointing the young faerie in the right direction. “Run fast.” The Rowen-troll nodded and began picking its way down the twisting path with the quickness of the small faerie girl.

“What happened?” Tamani asked Laurel in a flat tone, his eyes trained on the swiftly disappearing form.

“Someone should go with her,” Laurel said, avoiding Tamani’s question.

“She’ll be fine,” Tamani said, though he didn’t sound certain at all. Mostly, he sounded pained. “She knows the way, and we’ve already lost too much time. This is the best we can do for her.”

Laurel nodded. “I found her in . . . someone’s . . . arms. The trolls—”

But she couldn’t bear to finish.
So much death.

“Dahlia saved Rowen,” Tamani said tonelessly. “She’d have been proud to die that way.” He turned and gave the faux castle one more look through the web of branches. “Let’s go.”

A
s Laurel followed David and Tamani through the woods near the Academy, her breathing became ragged and clipped. They reached a copse of trees within sight of the Academy, and Tamani jerked to a halt, Laurel barely managing to stop before plowing into him. Through the breaks in the high wall surrounding the school, they could see a hundred trolls at least, wreaking havoc across the once-manicured grounds, tearing things apart, as far as Laurel could tell, for the sheer joy of it.

“I see a few sentries fighting in there,” Tamani said, squinting at the small gaps in the outer wall. “But mostly there are a lot of bodies. Once the sentries are down the barricades won’t last long. Not against this group.”

“What? Then why did you send Chelsea?” David demanded. “I thought—”

“I hoped to buy them time while we got Jamison to safety.” Tamani said, shaking his head. “You were right, Laurel. We should have come here first.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Laurel said.
What’s done is done.
And they’d saved Rowen – surely that counted for something. “How can we get in?”

“We could go round,” David suggested. “Maybe there are fewer around the back?”

“Maybe. But those entrances will be barricaded too, and I’m more worried about them tearing their way in here,” Tamani said, and sure enough, Laurel saw some of the trolls were beginning to attack the Academy itself, dislodging boards that had been fastened across windows, ripping down the ivy that crept over the structure, smashing their fists against the thick stone walls. There were a small handful of blue-armoured sentries fighting to hold the front doors which, though battered and cracked, remained closed. But they were vastly outnumbered and it would be only a matter of time before the Academy was completely overrun. “We’re going to have to charge through. David leads the way – if we stay close to him, I can protect Laurel from behind.”

Moving as one, they stepped out onto the path. As they passed through the Academy gates Laurel could taste the tang of blood on her tongue; it was different from when they were in the Garden where – despite the deaths – they had been winning. The Academy lawn was strewn with bodies of trolls and faeries alike, their blood pooling together.

The trolls were on them in an instant, rushing from all sides at their fresh new prey.

“Keep running!” Tamani shouted as he speared grasping arms.

David was swinging his sword wildly, clearing their path. Each swing brought down more trolls, and soon they were picking their way over dead bodies as David moved closer to the front doors. The trolls continued to press towards them. Laurel had to avert her eyes and hold her breath to keep from retching. It helped to focus on the front doors, looking for a reasonable chance to make a run for them. As she and Tamani and David drew closer, two sentries managed to drive a group of trolls back and down the stone steps.

“I’ve got a clear path!” Laurel shouted to Tamani.

He turned to glance at the entrance for the briefest of moments. “I’ll cover you. Go
now
!”

Laurel threw herself out of the protective sphere of David and Tamani and sprinted for the front entrance, expecting to feel a troll’s claws pierce her back at any moment. When she reached the heavy doors she threw herself against them, pounding her fists and shouting, “It’s Laurel! Let me in! Please! It’s Laurel! We need your help!” She turned to see Tamani and David close behind her. More trolls were closing in like waves on all three sides, gaining ground every second.

“Please!” Laurel shouted again. “Let us in!” She didn’t dare look again, just continued beating on the splintering wood, trying to ignore the ache of forming bruises on her fists.

A tiny crack appeared between the doors, so small it could have been her imagination. Then the opening widened, fingers threading through, pulling on the thick wood until there was just enough room for them to fall through. The doors quickly shut again, closing them away from the battle with an ominous slam.

Laurel lay panting on the floor, only dimly aware of the hands and bodies around her pushing furniture and bookshelves back up against the doors – repairing their barricade. Laurel lifted her cheek from the cool stone, tenderly probing the scrape there.

Then Tamani’s hands were lifting her gently, checking for injuries, and sighing in relief when he found none. “Are you OK?”

Laurel nodded, although
OK
was not exactly the way she would have described herself right now. She glanced around. “David. Where’s David?”

“Calm down,” Tamani said, a hand on each arm.

“I will
not
calm down,” Laurel said, pulling away. “Where is he?”

“He’s outside, fighting,” he said, reaching for her arm again.

“No,” Laurel said, trying to twist away. “We can’t leave him alone! Not to face all of that.” She threw herself back toward the barricade. “You left him out there to die!”

Tamani grabbed her around her waist now, pulling her back. “He’s not going to die!” he said in a voice so sharp Laurel stopped panicking for a moment. “He has Excalibur and he’s not letting it go. I know it’s scary – I’m scared too. But—”

“You don’t even care!” Laurel shouted, the panic edging back in. “You can’t put this all on his shoulders. He needs us, Tam!”

“I would never let anything happen to him!” Tamani shouted back, his nose almost touching hers. He paused, his hands
tightening on her waist
just a little. “But if he wasn’t out there fighting the trolls, there’s no way we could have gotten these doors closed again. The trolls are too strong. He got us in, and now he’s buying us the time we need. If you can’t trust
me
right now, trust Jamison. David will be fine.”

Something in his words brought Laurel back to the moment. She looked at Tamani and forced herself to take a few long, slow breaths. “I don’t need to trust Jamison,” she said finally. “I trust you.”

“OK,” Tamani said. He stroked her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. “The best thing we can do is focus on our job in here – as soon as we can, we will get him back; I promise you that.”

Laurel forced herself to remember the power of Excalibur – how invincible David was with it – and how binding a promise from Tamani was.

“Keep piling!” a voice yelled as a soft hand slipped onto Laurel’s shoulder.

“Chelsea!” Laurel threw her arms around her friend. “I wasn’t sure I was ever going to see you again.”

“I ran so freaking fast!” Chelsea exclaimed. “I think I could have won state today. Apparently you put a troll on my heels and I turn into a superstar.”

Laurel squeezed her hand and turned to survey the situation. She had to admit, things looked better than she’d feared. The doors had a stout beam thrown across them and were braced back with an enormous pile of furniture. A group of faeries were lined up replacing the area they’d torn down to let her in, and the barricade was so massive Laurel was surprised they’d been able to let her through it at all.

The windows were a little trickier, but they’d done a pretty good job, using stone-topped tables and securing them to the oak window sashes with thick boards. The unnaturally strong trolls would only be slowed a little by the setup, but a group of faeries on each side of the great barricade clustered around two massive guns aimed at the windows on either side of the entrance.

Guns?

One tall, older faerie who seemed to be supervising yelled a command to the gathered faeries, then turned his sandy-blond head toward her. Sap had congealed in a ragged cut across one side of his face.

“Yeardley!” Laurel said, running to her professor and throwing herself in his arms with no thought to decorum.

“Laurel, thank the Goddess you’re safe. And you’ve brought us another sentry,” he said, his voice heavy with unconcealed relief.

“Yeardley – Tamani. You met him last time I was here.”

“I see Chelsea delivered the message,” Tamani said, eyeing the barricade – and the guns – approvingly.

“We’ve been doing our best. Thank you for sending your friend, Laurel. She told us what happened at the Garden and before the trolls got here we were able to pull in all the students who had been working outside and gather the younglings into an inner chamber.” He hesitated. “A few trolls did get inside, but we think we’ve managed to kill them all. The labs are a mess and . . . and we’ve had several deaths and more injuries. But you’re here now. Were you able to wake Jamison?”

Before Laurel could answer, a mighty thud on the covering of one of the windows reverberated through the atrium.

“Be ready!” Yeardley called.

Another thump sent the stone table rocking askew and a huge hand pushed through, followed by a beard-covered face.

“Now!” Yeardley yelled.

The sound of gunfire and the sharp scent of powder filled the atrium as the troll stumbled back in a spray of blood. Several faeries rushed forward to resecure the table.

The faerie at the trigger burst into tears and another faerie took the gun from her and scooted into her spot.

“Your friend’s idea,” Yeardley said, answering Laurel’s unasked question. “The trolls we killed had these . . . weapons. Chelsea suggested we turn them around on them. Brilliant, really.” He paused. “Hard on our poor students. They’re not killers.”

“Nor would I want them to be,” Tamani said. “I suggest they wear gloves when they handle cold iron like that, though.”

A loud crash sounded at the front door and Tamani swore. “Sounds like they’re using a battering ram,” he growled. “It won’t be long now. Yeardley, we need your help reviving Jamison. He’s safe, but he’s in the Spring quarter.”

“I’m happy to help,” Yeardley said, “but getting from here to Spring will be no easy task.”

“We can make it – we have David. Or we will soon. Do you have a high window facing front, an overhang, something?”

A flicker of a smile crossed Yeardley’s face. “Yes. We have a balcony we’ve been attacking trolls from; I’ll take you right there.”

“I need some rope – bedsheets, even – something to haul David up with.”

Yeardley passed on the request to one of the faeries standing by. “He’ll meet us there,” Yeardley said, already turning. “Come.”

“Do you have bows and arrows?” Tamani asked as Laurel and Chelsea followed them up a winding staircase.

“Why would we have those?” Yeardley asked, a trace of helplessness in his tone. “We’re a school, not an armoury.”

“How are you fighting the trolls, then? They’re immune to Autumn magic.”

“As your lovely friend warned us,” Yeardley said, his jaw tight. “Still, there are many things we can toss at them that don’t require magic at all. Acid. Hot oil.” He paused. “Bookshelves.”

The door at the top of the stairs was already open and led to a large balcony two floors up, a little to the side of the main doors. As they stepped out Laurel saw several faeries lugging an armoire through a door on the other side of the landing and she watched with horror and fascination as they struggled to the railing with the beautifully carved cupboard, paused, and then, when someone shouted “Now!” pushed it off.

A small blonde faerie brushed dust from her hands with satisfaction as she turned away from the railing. “Katya!” Laurel exclaimed, running forward.

“Hecate’s petals, you’re here!” Katya exclaimed. She pulled back, gripping Laurel’s shoulders, then pulled her close again. “You
shouldn’t
be! It’s so dangerous. Oh, but I’m so glad you are!”

Laurel lingered in her friend’s arms an extra moment. This past summer, when Avalon had been so lonely without Tamani, Katya had been Laurel’s personal rock. She never asked for details, but somehow she intuited that Laurel needed
someone
and took special pains to keep her busy and entertained.

Katya squeezed Laurel’s shoulders one more time then looked up at Tamani. Her eyes lit with recognition. “This is your sentry friend. Tim . . . no, Tam?”

“Yes,” Laurel said.

Without hesitation, Katya threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so very much for bringing her to us safely.”

“We’re not yet half done,” Tamani growled, but Laurel could tell he was pleased. She turned and hugged Katya again, grateful she was alive. It was a bittersweet reunion, but one Laurel hadn’t realised until now that she had been looking forward to so much. She even took a moment to laugh at their matching pink peasant-style shirts that looked like they must have been made by the same Spring faerie.

Katya’s eyes fell on Chelsea, standing just behind Laurel’s shoulder. Laurel looked at the two and grinned. She had told both of them so much about each other, it felt momentous to finally have them together. Gesturing to each one, Laurel simply named them, pleased that their faces lit as she did so. “Chelsea, Katya.”

“Laurel,” Tamani called, breaking into their momentary reprieve. He was at the far edge of the railing, pointing.

Turning from her friends, Laurel ran to him, and her eyes followed his finger. The trolls had felled a tree somewhere, stripped of its branches, and were now using it as a rudimentary battering ram. David must have realised that the battering ram was the greatest threat and was on one side of it, hacking away at any troll who tried to pick it up. It appeared the trolls hadn’t yet figured out just how dangerous David was, though; they poured onto him like water and fell like autumn leaves.