Illusions (4 page)

TAMANI SHUT THE DOOR NOISELESSLY BEHIND HIM,
breaking into a silent run toward the darkening tree line. He didn't have much time—one of the less pleasant parts of his job was seeing that David got home alive once Laurel was safely in for the night. Keeping the human boy breathing didn't rate high on Tamani's personal priority scale, but since Laurel's happiness was second only to her safety, David was watched.

Aaron reached out to grab Tamani's arm as he passed the nearest tree. “What's happening?” he whispered.

“We have trouble,” Tamani replied grimly.

Trouble was the least of what they had. Now that he didn't have to look confident and strong for Laurel's benefit, Tamani sank to the ground, ran his fingers through his hair—he still wasn't used to it being so short—and let his worst fears wash over him. Not for the first time, Tamani wished Jamison would simply order Laurel to Avalon for good. But Jamison insisted it wasn't time and that Laurel had to come willingly.

“Another faerie has arrived,” he said.

Aaron raised one eyebrow. “Shar didn't say anything—”

“With the Huntress. Not from Avalon.”

Aaron's other eyebrow went up. “Unseelie?”

“That doesn't seem likely. She's got to be some kind of . . . wild faerie.”

“But that's impossible,” Aaron said, stepping closer, his fists on his hips.

“I know,” Tamani said, looking toward the house and seeing two silhouettes moving about the kitchen in the dying evening light. He recapped the visit to Aaron, fear gripping his chest as worst-case scenarios ran through his head.

“What does this mean for us?” Aaron asked.

“I don't know,” Tamani replied. “More reinforcements, for one.”

“More?” Aaron stared in disbelief. “At this rate we'll have half of Avalon here by winter.”

“It can't be helped. We'll need at least one squad watching the new girl. Maybe two. Jamison promised me more sentries if we need them, and I don't want to take anyone from Laurel's house.”

Tamani looked up at the sound of a car engine turning over. David's car—it had a distinctive tick that had become all too familiar the last couple weeks. It was time to go. Rising to his feet, Tamani pulled his phone out of his pocket. He'd try Shar again as he tracked David. He turned and placed his free hand on Aaron's shoulder. “This faerie has the potential to destroy everything we've worked for. We cannot take her lightly.”

He didn't wait for Aaron's reply before sprinting off after David's taillights.

Whatever Yuki was up to, it apparently required her to ignore Laurel at all costs.

At first Laurel thought Yuki was simply shy, as any attempt to approach her resulted in a murmured apology followed by a hasty retreat. But when Laurel settled for smiling at her in the hallway, Yuki pretended not to notice. By Thursday, even finding Yuki became a challenge, and Laurel's efforts were giving her a headache. Laurel didn't want to go to Jamison before she'd found
something
out about Yuki, but the elusive faerie wasn't giving her much choice.

On Friday morning Tamani wasn't in Government when Laurel walked in. She was beginning to worry when he plopped himself down in his seat just as the final bell rang. Mrs. Harms didn't mark him tardy, but she did raise one menacing eyebrow that seemed to say,
Next time.

“Shar's still not answering,” Tamani hissed as soon as Mrs. Harms turned her back to write on the whiteboard.

Laurel shot him a concerned look. “Not at all?”

“Not once.” He was practically twitching in his seat. “It could be nothing,” he added, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “Shar hates his phone. He doesn't think we should be using human technology; says we always get into trouble when we do. So he's stubborn enough to not answer it on principle. But it . . . it could mean something's happened. We're still on for today, right?”

“Yes,” Laurel said earnestly. “I told my parents and everything. We're good to go.”

“Great,” he said, sounding more nervous than excited.

“Are we still going to get to see Jamison?” Laurel asked.

Tamani hesitated and Laurel looked questioningly at him. “I don't know,” he admitted. “Shar is really paranoid about opening the gate—especially without warning.”

“We
have
to see Jamison,” Laurel insisted in a whisper. “That's the whole point, isn't it?”

Tamani looked at her for a moment with a strange expression on his face that almost made Laurel think he was mad at her. “For you, I guess,” he said darkly, then turned to the front of the room, doodling furiously as Laurel took notes. Laurel tried to catch his eye, but he looked steadfastly away from her. What had she said?

As soon as the bell rang Tamani stood and hurried toward the door without a backward glance. Just as he passed into the hall, Laurel heard a grunt and a scuffle. Craning her neck, she saw David and Tamani standing chest to chest, a couple of books on the floor at their feet.

“Sorry,” David murmured. “Didn't see you.”

Tamani glared at David for a moment, then he lowered his eyes and mumbled an apology as he retrieved his books and slid out into the hallway.

“What was that?” Laurel asked as she and David fell into step beside each other in the hall.

“It was an accident,” David said. “The bell rang and he came barreling out. I didn't have time to move.” He hesitated before adding, “He didn't look happy.”

“He's mad at me,” Laurel said, watching Tamani's back disappear into the crowd. “I don't know why.”

“What happened?”

Laurel explained as they walked to their side-by-side lockers. Being a senior was not without its perks.

“Is it because I'm not that worried about Shar?” she asked.

David hesitated. “It could be,” he admitted. “Don't you get mad at him when he doesn't seem worried about me? Or Chelsea?”

“Yeah, but that's different. You and Chelsea aren't like Shar. Tamani doesn't worry about you because you don't matter to him,” Laurel said, stifling the anger she always felt at Tamani's general scorn for humans. “
I'm
not worried about Shar because he is totally capable of taking care of himself. It's . . . a respect thing.”

“I get that, but if Tamani's worried,” David said, lowering his voice, “don't you think maybe you should be too?”

It made sense, and Laurel felt her old grudge melt away—for the moment. “You're right,” she said. “I should apologize.”

“Well, you'll have plenty of time this afternoon,” David said in a deceptively light voice.

Laurel laughed, giving a mock gasp. “David, are you jealous?”

“No! Well, I mean, I'd love to spend the afternoon with you, so in that way, yeah, I guess so.” He shrugged. “I just wish I could go.” He paused, then looked at her with transparent innocence. “I could wait in the car.”

“It's probably not a good idea,” Laurel said softly, thinking about the conversation she'd just had with Tamani. “We're trying to get into Avalon without advance notice as it is. Bringing you with us would probably just put them on edge.”

“Okay.” David paused again, then leaned his head closer to her and said in a fierce whisper, “I
wish
I could go through that gate with you.”

Her throat tightened. Avalon was the one thing she could never share with David. And it wasn't just that the fae would never let him through the gate—Laurel was a little worried about how David would be treated even if he
were
allowed. “I know,” she whispered, reaching her hands up to touch his cheeks.

“I'll miss you,” he said.

She laughed. “I'm not leaving yet!”

“Yeah, but you're going to class. I'll miss you till it's over.”

Laurel slapped his shoulder playfully. “You are so sappy.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“I do,” Laurel said, folding herself into his arms.

When class let out for the day, Laurel headed straight for the parking lot, knowing how anxious Tamani was. And, admittedly, she was a little curious to see what kind of car he drove. She shouldn't have been surprised to see a convertible. Tamani said nothing as he unlocked her door and lowered the car's top.

For the first couple of minutes, Laurel was simply fascinated by the sight of Tamani driving. The novelty of seeing him in distinctly human situations was starting to wear off, but it wasn't gone yet.

As Tamani pulled onto the highway, Laurel finally broke the silence. “I'm sorry,” she said.

“For what?” Tamani replied, donning a convincingly unaffected air.

“For not taking you seriously. About Shar.”

“It's okay,” Tamani said guardedly. “I overreacted.”

“No, you didn't,” Laurel insisted. “I should have listened.”

Tamani was silent.

Laurel sat, not knowing what to say next.

“If anything happened to him, I don't know what I'd do,” Tamani finally said, his words coming out in a rush.

Not wanting to interrupt and make him clam up, Laurel simply nodded.

“Shar is . . . I would probably say he's like a brother, if I knew what that was like.” He glanced over at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road. “Everything I am now, I owe to him. I wasn't even technically old enough to be in the guard when he took it upon himself to make a proper sentry out of me.” Finally, Tamani smiled again. “He's the main reason I got to meet you again.”

“He'll be fine,” Laurel said, trying to sound confident rather than dismissive. “From everything you've told me and everything I know about him, he's really amazing. I'm sure he's okay.”

“I hope so,” Tamani said, edging his speed up a little higher.

Laurel watched the road, but out the corner of her eye she could see Tamani stealing glances at her. “You hardly talk to me at school,” Laurel said a few minutes later as Tamani sped down the passing lane, overtaking a convoy of RVs. She was impressed. He had a manual transmission and was shifting through gears way better than she had when she was a new driver.

Tamani shrugged. “Well, we're not supposed to know each other, remember?”

“Yeah, but you talk to me in Government. You could at least wave in the halls.”

Tamani glanced her way. “I'm not sure that would be a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because of Yuki. Klea. Trolls. Take your pick.” He paused. “I worry about too many faeries being together in one place. I'd like to,” he added, smiling, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Laurel said in mock cheerfulness. “We should hide our friendship instead, and then if anyone sees us driving around like this they'll assume I'm cheating on my boyfriend. That's a
much
better idea. Why didn't I think of that?” She glanced sidelong at him. “Trust me, in a small town, scandal draws way more attention than group vegetarianism.”

“What do you want me to do?” Tamani asked.

Laurel considered that. “Wave in the halls. Say hi. Don't ignore me in Speech class. In a couple of weeks, it won't seem out of the ordinary to anyone. Not even Yuki or Klea, assuming they care.”

Tamani grinned. “Don't you think you're brilliant.”

“I don't think,” Laurel said with a laugh, leaning her head a little to the side so the wind caught her long, golden hair and threw it back behind her. “I know.” After a pause she added, “You could be David's friend too.” She glanced at Tamani when he said nothing. He was frowning. “The two of you really have a lot in common, and we're all in this together.”

He shook his head. “It wouldn't work.”

“Why not? He's a nice guy. And it would do you good to have some human friends,” she said, hinting at what she suspected was the root of the problem.

“It's not that,” Tamani said, gesturing vaguely with one hand.

“Then why?” Laurel asked, exasperated.

“I just don't want to cozy up to the guy whose girl I have every intention of stealing,” he said flatly, without looking at her.

Laurel stared silently out the window for the rest of the trip.

WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE LAND, TAMANI TURNED
to her. “Stay here,” he said, his eyes on the tree line. “Just until we know it's safe,” he added. Laurel relented; after all, he was combat-trained and she wasn't. He unbuckled his seat belt and sprang out of the convertible without bothering to open the door.

Just before he reached the shadow of the trees, someone in green leaped out from Tamani's right and toppled him over. At first Laurel couldn't identify the blur that knocked Tamani to the ground, but as soon as she realized it was Shar she opened the door and hurried to them.

The two sentries were tangled in the dirt, Tamani with his arms wrenched firmly behind him, his legs wrapped around Shar's waist, pinning him to the ground. Each struggled to get free of the other, but it looked like a stalemate. Laurel crossed her arms and grinned as the faeries grunted out Gaelic epithets and outlandish faerie slurs.

“Rot-headed spore! Make me worry.”

“Pansy sentry, totally unprepared.”

Finally Tamani called truce and they got to their feet, dusting off their clothes and shaking leaves out of their hair. Laurel noticed that Shar's hair, like Tamani's, was no longer green at the roots. Apparently Tamani hadn't been the only one to change his diet.

“Why didn't you answer the phone, mate? I've been calling you all week!”

Laurel put up a hand to cover her smile as she listened to Tamani's accent thicken with every word. Shar reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out his iPhone with the same look Laurel's mother reserved for leftovers found moldering in the back of the fridge. “I can't work this blighted thing,” Shar said. “Half the time I don't feel it buzzing until it's too late, and even when I do, I put it up to my ear like you said and nothing happens.”

“Did you slide the bar?” Tamani asked.

“What bar? It's as smooth as a holly leaf,” Shar said, looking at the phone Laurel noticed he was holding upside down. “You told me it's as easy as picking it up and talking. That's what I did.”

Tamani sighed, then reached out and punched Shar in the shoulder. Shar didn't even move, much less flinch. “There's not even anything to remember! It tells you right on the screen what to do. Let's try it again,” Tamani said, reaching into his pocket.

“No point in that,” Shar said moodily, his eyes darting toward Laurel. “I can hear you now.” He turned and walked down the path. “Best get out of sight. Would be our luck that after six months with no trolls, one would wander by as we're standing out in the open, gawking at human trinkets.”

Tamani stood for a few seconds, phone in hand, then shoved his hands in his pockets and tromped after Shar, looking back with a shrug to make sure Laurel was following. But Laurel could see the relief in his eyes.

About ten feet into the woods, Shar drew abruptly to a halt. “So why are you here?” he asked, his face serious, playful demeanor gone. “The plan was never for you to bounce back and forth. You are supposed to maintain your post in the human world.”

Tamani sobered as well. “The situation has changed. The Huntress enrolled a faerie at Laurel's school.”

Shar's eyebrow twitched; a big reaction, from him. “The Huntress is back?”

Tamani nodded.

“And she has a faerie with her. How is that even possible?”

“I don't know. Supposedly, Klea's people found her in Japan, where she was raised by human parents. We don't know what she's capable of, if anything.” Tamani's eyes darted to Laurel. “I told Laurel about the toxin. The wild faerie—Yuki—looks too young to have made something like that, but who could say for sure?”

Shar's eyes narrowed. “How young does she look?”

“Younger than thirty. Older than ten. You know it would be impossible to say for sure. But from what I've observed of her behavior, she
could
be within a year or two of Laurel's age.”

Laurel hadn't even considered that. She knew faeries aged differently from humans, but the differences were most pronounced in very young faeries—like Tamani's niece, Rowen—and middle-aged faeries, who might spend a century looking like a human in the prime of life. Yuki didn't look out of place at Del Norte, but that only meant she was at least as old as her classmates.

Shar was frowning thoughtfully, but asked no further questions.

“Now that I know your sorry pulp isn't crushed to death under some troll's boot, we need to see Jamison,” said Tamani. “He'll know what to do.”

“We do not just summon Jamison, Tam. You know that,” Shar said flatly.

“Shar, it's important.”

Shar stepped close to Tamani, his words so quiet Laurel hardly heard them. “The last time I demanded the presence of a Winter faerie it was to save your life. I have watched other fae die when Avalon could have saved them because I knew I could not put my home at risk. We don't call the Winters down for a
chat
.” He paused. “I will send a request. When they bring a response, I'll let you know. That is all I can do.”

Tamani's face sank. “I thought—”

“You did
not
think,” Shar said sternly, and Tamani's mouth clapped shut. Shar chased his reproach with a scowl, but after a moment he sighed and his expression softened. “And that is partly my fault. If I had been able to speak to you on that ridiculous thing you wouldn't have been so concerned, and I could have made the request days ago. I apologize.” He placed one hand on Tamani's arm. “It
is
a matter of great importance, but do not forget who you are. You are a sentry; you are a Spring faerie. Even your position of great notice doesn't change that.”

Tamani nodded solemnly, saying nothing.

Laurel stood silently for a few seconds, staring at the two fae in disbelief. Despite her assurances to Tamani that she wanted Shar to be safe,
she
came to see Jamison.

And she wasn't leaving until she had.

Lifting her chin defiantly, Laurel turned and headed into the forest as fast as she could without breaking into a run.

“Laurel!” Tamani called immediately after her. “Where are you going?”

“I'm going to Avalon,” she said, holding her voice as steady as she could manage.

“Laurel, stop!” Tamani said, wrapping one hand around her upper arm.

Laurel pulled her arm from his grasp, the strength of his fingers stinging against her skin. “Don't try and stop me!” she said loudly. “You have no right!” Without pausing to look at his face, she pivoted and continued the way she had been heading. As she walked, several faeries approached the path, spears raised, but as soon as they recognized her, they backed off.

When she reached the tree that disguised the gate it was guarded by five fully armed sentries. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that, whatever else they might do, these warriors would never actually harm her, Laurel marched up to the closest one. “I am Laurel Sewell, Apprentice Fall, scion in the human world. I have business with Jamison, the Winter faerie, advisor to Queen Marion, and I demand entrance to Avalon.”

The guards, clearly thrown by this display, bowed respectfully at the waist and turned questioning eyes to Shar, who stepped forward and also bowed. Guilt welled up in Laurel's chest, but she forced it down.

“Of course,” Shar said softly. “I will send your request immediately. It is, however, up to the Winter faeries to decide whether they will open the gate.”

“I'm quite aware,” Laurel said, proud that her voice didn't quaver.

Shar bowed again, not meeting her eyes. He circled to the far side of the tree and Laurel wished she could go and see what he did—how he communicated with Avalon. But following him might destroy the illusion of power that, she had to admit, she was doing an excellent job of maintaining. So she averted her eyes and tried to look bored as silent minutes ticked by.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Shar emerged from behind the tree. “They are sending someone,” he said, his voice just a touch raspy. Laurel tried to catch his eye, but though his chin was raised as high and proud as hers, he would not meet her gaze.

“Good,” she said, as though she were not the least bit surprised. “I will need to be accompanied by my, um, guardian.” She indicated Tamani with a flick of her head. She almost tried the Gaelic word that Tamani used to refer to himself, but didn't trust herself to say it right.

“Of course,” Shar said, eyes still glued to the ground. “Your safety is of highest priority to us. Sentries, my first twelve to the front,” he ordered.

Laurel felt rather than saw Tamani start forward, but with a quick intake of breath he planted both feet again.

Twelve sentries filed past a large knot on the tree, each placing a hand on it. Laurel remembered with a twinge of sorrow the way Shar had lifted Tamani's nearly lifeless hand to the same knot when she'd brought him back—almost dead—after being shot by Barnes.

She tried to look unimpressed as the tree changed before her, transforming with a brilliant flash of light into the golden-barred gate that protected the faerie realm of Avalon. Beyond the gate, Laurel saw only blackness. Jamison had not yet arrived. Then, slowly, like the sun filtering out from behind a cloud, small fingers appeared and encircled the bars. A moment later the gate swung open, light flowing in to fill the space where there had been only darkness a moment before.

A girl who looked about twelve years old—
if she were human
, Laurel reminded herself; the young faerie was probably fourteen or fifteen—stood in the gateway, dwarfed by the height of the magnificent gate. It was Yasmine, Jamison's protégé. Laurel lowered her eyes and inclined her head in respect. Playing the role meant stepping into all aspects of it. She straightened and glanced behind her.

And almost lost her nerve.

She hated seeing Tamani act like a Spring faerie. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were downcast. His shoulders were subtly drawn forward and he looked very small, despite being half a foot taller than Laurel. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Laurel said, “Come on,” in the most commanding tone she could muster, and stepped forward.

The young Winter faerie smiled up at Laurel. “Lovely to see you again,” Yasmine said, in a sweet, tinkling voice. Her gaze traveled back to Tamani and she smiled. “And Tamani. A pleasure.”

Tamani's face softened into a smile so genuine it made Laurel's heart ache to see it. But he bowed the moment she met his eyes, and Laurel looked away. She couldn't bear to witness such obeisance from Tamani. Proud, powerful Tamani.

Yasmine stepped back, beckoning them forward. Laurel and Tamani passed by her, but instead of following, Yasmine greeted someone else. Laurel turned to see Shar step forward and present himself with a bow.

“Captain?” Yasmine asked.

“If I could, since you are here anyway, may I make use of the Hokkaido gate? I will be ready and waiting when you return with the scion.”

“Of course,” Yasmine said.

Shar skittered through the gate and Laurel turned to watch it close behind him, the blackness seeping in behind the bars.

“It will take just a moment for the sentries in Hokkaido to prepare for the opening,” a small, dark-haired sentry said as she bowed to Yasmine. Yasmine merely nodded as the sentries on the Avalon side gathered around the east-facing gate. Laurel had never seen any of the other gates opened.

“You're going to see
her
, aren't you?” Tamani hissed to Shar.

A sharp look was his only response.

“Don't do it, Shar,” Tamani said. “You're always depressed for weeks. We can't afford that now. We need you focused.”

“It is because of the new faerie that I am going to her,” Shar said seriously. He paused and his eyes darted to Laurel. “If this new faerie was raised as a human in Japan, her appearance could be evidence of the Glamour at work. And if that is the case,
they
may know something. Like it or not, they have knowledge and experience that we don't. I will do whatever it takes to protect Avalon, Tam. Especially if . . .” His voice trailed off. “Just in case,” he said in a whisper.

“Shar,” Tamani began. Then he pressed his lips together and nodded.

“Captain?” Yasmine's silky voice interrupted them.

“Of course,” Shar said, turning away.

An arc of sentries lay just beyond the gate that Yasmine was holding open. They looked almost identical to the circle that always greeted Laurel, except that they were wearing long sleeves and heavy breeches—a strange sight among faeries. A gust of chilly air rushed through the gate, sharp enough to make Laurel gasp. She looked at Shar, but he was already striding forward, pulling a voluminous cloak out of his pack. Then he was gone, and the gate closed behind him.

“This way,” Yasmine said, heading up the meandering path that led out of the walled garden. A half-dozen guards, clad in blue, fell into step around them—Yasmine's
Am fear-faire
, the young faerie's guardians and almost constant companions. For this alone Laurel would not have wanted to be a Winter faerie, no matter how powerful they were. She valued what little privacy she had.

They walked silently, passing through the stone walls that enclosed the gates and into Avalon's earthy resplendence. Laurel paused to savor the island's sweet air; the sheer perfection of nature in Avalon was enough to take anyone's breath away. Evening was already falling, and a brilliant sunset was painting itself across the Western horizon. “I'm sorry Jamison could not come and greet you himself,” Yasmine said, addressing Laurel, “but he has asked that I bring you to him.”

“Where is he?” Laurel asked. She hadn't intended to disturb Jamison in the middle of something important.