“They may not come out if you do,” Laurel said. “I’ll be safe.” She smiled at the dense trees. “I don’t think there’s anywhere on earth I would be safer.” She had spent the last three days convincing her parents she was a faerie and most of this morning assuring them that it was in their best interest to accept the faeries’ proposition. And even though her parents were skeptical, their objections to the arrangement seemed insignificant compared to the fact that the faeries had saved her dad’s life. That and the initial appraisal of the rough diamond, which had an estimated value of just under eight hundred thousand dollars.
Laurel leaned over and hugged her mother. “You are coming back, aren’t you?” her mom asked.
Remembering how David had asked the same question, Laurel smiled. “Yes, Mom, I’m coming back.”
She stepped out of the car into the cold, crisp air. The sky was murky with dense gray clouds that threatened rain, but Laurel refused to see that as an omen. “It’s just the winter air,” she muttered under her breath. Still, she clasped the bag containing the soft moccasins to her chest as if it could protect her from the bad news that might lie waiting for her within the forest.
It couldn’t be bad news, though. It couldn’t! She stepped into the shadow of the woods and walked down the path toward the river. She knew she must be surrounded by faerie sentries, but she didn’t dare call out—she wasn’t entirely sure she could find the voice to, even if she dug up the will.
When she reached the rushing stream, she laid the bag on the rock she’d been sitting on the first time she met Tamani. She sat on it again now, waiting. Just waiting.
“Hello, Laurel.”
She’d know that voice anywhere; it had haunted her dreams for the last four days. No, that wasn’t true. For the last two months. She turned and threw herself into Tamani’s arms, waves of relief rushing over her as tears wet his shirt.
“I should get shot more often,” he said, his arms tight around her.
“Don’t ever get shot again,” Laurel ordered, her cheek glued to Tamani’s chest. His shirts were always so soft. Right now, she never wanted to lift her face from the smooth fabric. His hands were in her hair, stroking her shoulder, brushing a tear from her temple—everywhere at once. All the while, a soft murmuring of words she didn’t understand flowed from his mouth, comforting her as effectively as any spell could have. It didn’t matter to her that Tamani only had weak magic—he was magic.
When she finally let him go, she laughed and wiped her tears away. “I’m happy to see you, I really am. Are you okay? It’s only been four days.”
Tamani shrugged. “I’m a little sore, and technically I’m here for recuperation, not on duty. But I knew you’d come. And I wanted to be here when you did.” He leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I—I—I brought these back,” Laurel stuttered, holding up the bag with the moccasins. His closeness always made her shiver.
Tamani shook his head. “I made them for you.”
“Something else to remember you by?” Laurel asked, touching the tiny ring around her neck.
“You can never have too many reminders.” Tamani’s eyes circled the small clearing. He cleared his throat. “First things first, I’ve been assigned to ask you how our proposal was received.”
“Quite well,” Laurel responded in the same mock-formal tone. “The papers will be drawn up as soon as possible.” She rolled her eyes. “I think they’re going to make it my Christmas present.”
Tamani laughed, then pulled her a little closer. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “The trees have eyes.”
“I don’t think it’s the trees,” Laurel said sardonically.
Tamani chuckled. “Maybe not. This way.”
He took her hand as he led her down a path that snaked back and forth but never seemed to really go anywhere.
“Is your father okay?” Tamani asked, squeezing her hand.
Laurel smiled. “They’re releasing him this afternoon. He intends to be back at work bright and early tomorrow morning.” She sobered. “That’s why I’m here. We’re all going to Crescent City in a few hours. I—” She looked down at her feet. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back.”
Tamani turned and looked at her, his eyes a deep well of something she couldn’t quite place. “Did you come here to say good-bye?”
It sounded so harsh when he said it. She nodded. “For now.”
Tamani shifted dead leaves on the ground with his bare foot. “What does that mean? You’re choosing David over me?”
She hadn’t come here to talk about David. “I wish it could be different, Tamani. But I can’t live in your world right now. I have to live in mine. What am I supposed to do, ask my mom or David to drive me down here once in a while so I can see my boyfriend?”
Tamani turned and walked a few more steps, but Laurel followed him.
“Should I write you letters or call you on the phone? I don’t have an option here.”
“You could stay,” he said, his voice so quiet she barely heard him.
“Stay?”
“You could live here…with me.” He continued on before she could speak. “You’re going to own the land soon. And there’s a house. You could stay!”
Glorious thoughts of life with Tamani spun through Laurel’s head, but she forced them aside. “No, Tam. I can’t.”
“You lived here before. And things were good.”
“Good? How were things good? I was being constantly watched and you guys were feeding my parents memory elixirs like they were water!”
Tamani focused on the ground. “You figured that out?”
“It was the only logical explanation.”
“I didn’t like it either, if that helps.”
She took a deep breath. “Did they…did they ever make me forget? After I got here, I mean.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Sometimes.”
“Did you ever do it?” she asked tentatively.
He looked at her with wide eyes, then shook his head. “I couldn’t.” He leaned closer, his voice so low she could barely hear. “I should have, once. But I couldn’t do it.”
“What happened?”
He scratched at his neck. “I hate that you don’t remember.”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “You were really young. I was a new sentry—I’d been out maybe a week—and I got sloppy and let you see me.”
“I saw you?”
“Yeah, you were about ten in human years. I just put my finger to my lips to quiet you and ducked back behind a tree. You looked for me for a minute or two, but within an hour you seemed to have forgotten it.”
Laurel stood silently for a long time. “I—I remember that. Just barely. That was you?”
Joy glowed out of Tamani’s eyes. “You remember?”
Laurel broke eye contact. “A little,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat. “What about my parents? Did you ever dope them?”
Tamani sighed. “A couple of times. I had to,” he added before Laurel could argue. “It was my job. But only two or three times. By the time I got here, you were more careful. We didn’t have to patch you up once a week. And the times when your parents got too close, I tried to assign someone else.” He shrugged. “I always thought it was a lousy plan to begin with.”
Laurel was silent for a moment. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t be mad. It wouldn’t be like that if you stayed now. You know everything. Your parents even know. We wouldn’t have to do that anymore.”
She shook her head. “I have to stay with my parents. They’re in more danger than ever. I’ve been given the responsibility of protecting them. I can’t turn my back on them now. They’re human—and maybe that seems lesser to you. But I love them and I won’t leave them to be slaughtered by the first troll who comes across their scent. I won’t!”
“Then why are you here?” he asked bitterly.
She paused for a few seconds,
trying to control her emotions. “Don’t you know how much I wish I could stay? I love this forest. I love—” She hesitated. “I love being with you. Hearing about Avalon, feeling its magic in the trees. Every time I leave, I wonder why.”
“Then why do you go?” His voice was louder now, demanding. “Stay,” he said, grasping her hands in his. “Stay with me. I’ll take you to Avalon. Avalon, Laurel. You can go there. We can go together.”
“Stop! Tamani, I can’t. I just can’t be part of your world right now.”
“Your world.”
Laurel nodded weakly. “My world,” she relented. “My family is depending on me for too much. I have to live my human life.”
“With David,” Tamani said.
Laurel shook her head, frustrated. “Yes, if you must know. David is very important to me. But I told you, this is not about choosing between you and David. I’m not trying to decide who’s my one true love. It’s not like that.”
“Maybe not for you.”
His voice was quiet—barely audible—but the intensity hit her like a tangible blow.
“What does it take, Laurel? I’ve done everything I can think of. I got shot to protect you. Tell me what else to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if you’ll just stay.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes—deep pools of an emotion she’d never been able to identify. Her mouth went dry as she tried to find her voice. “Why do you love me so much, Tamani?” It was a question she’d been longing to ask for weeks. “You scarcely even know me.”
Above their heads the sky rumbled. “What if—what if that wasn’t true?”
They were on the edge of a cliff, she could feel it. And she wasn’t sure she had the strength to jump. “How could it not be true?” she whispered.
Those fiery eyes still burned into hers. “What if I told you our lives were entwined long ago?” He slipped his fingers through hers, holding up their joined fists.
Laurel stared at their hands. “I don’t understand.”
“I told you that you were seven when you came to live with the humans. But in the faerie world, you were mentally much older, remember? You had a life, Laurel. You had friends.” He paused, and Laurel could see he was trying to maintain control over his emotions. “You had me.” Tamani’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I knew you, Laurel, and you knew me. We were just friends, but we were such good friends. I…I asked you not to go, but you told me it was your duty. I learned about duty and responsibility from you.” He looked down and lifted her hands to his chest. “You said you’d try to remember me, but they made you forget. I thought I would die the first time you looked at me and didn’t recognize me.”
Laurel’s eyes filled with tears.
“I lied—about the ring I mean,” Tamani said, his voice soft and serious. “I didn’t just give you a random ring. It was yours. You gave it to me to keep until the time came to return it to you. You thought—you hoped—it might help you remember your life before you came here.” He shrugged. “Obviously it didn’t work, but I promised you I’d try.”
Cold rain dripped down Laurel’s arms as she stood silently.
“I never gave up on you, Laurel. I swore I would find a way back into your life. I became a sentry as early as they would allow and called in every favor I could to get assigned to this gate. Jamison helped me. I owe him more than I could ever repay.” He lifted her hands up to his face and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles. “I’ve watched you for years. Watched you grow from a little girl to a full-grown faerie. We were best friends when we were little, and I’ve been with you almost every day for the last five years. Is it so unreasonable for me to have fallen in love with you?”
He laughed very quietly. “You used to come out here and sit by the stream and play your guitar and sing. I would sit up in a tree and just listen to you. It was my favorite thing to do. You sing so beautifully.”
His bangs were soft, damp tendrils now, hanging down across his forehead. Laurel let her eyes travel the length of him: his soft black breeches tied at the knees, the fitted green shirt hugging his chest, and the symmetrical face that was more perfect than any human boy could ever wish for. “You waited for me this long?” she asked in a whisper.
Tamani nodded. “And I’ll wait longer. Someday you’ll come to Avalon, and when that time comes, I’ll show you what I have to offer you in my world, our world. You’ll choose me. You’ll come home with me.” He held her face in his hands.
Tears stung Laurel’s eyes. “You don’t know that, Tamani.”
He licked his lips nervously for just a second before a forced smile cut across his face. “No,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t.” His hands on her face, stone-cold a second ago, now seemed to warm with the heat in his eyes as his thumbs traced her cheekbones. “But I have to believe; I have to hope.”
Laurel wanted to tell him to be realistic—not to hope for what might never happen. But she couldn’t force the words out of her throat. Even in her mind they sounded false.
“And I’ll wait, Laurel. I’ll wait as long as I have to. I have never given up on you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “And I never will.”
He pulled her close and held her, and neither spoke. For a perfect moment, no one else in the world existed outside of this tiny space on a wooded path. “Come on,” Tamani said, squeezing her one more time. “Your mother will be worried.”
They walked hand in hand, farther down the curvy path until Laurel began to recognize where she was. “I’ll leave you here,” he said, about a hundred feet from the tree line.
Laurel nodded. “It’s not forever,” she promised.
“I know.”
She lifted the thin silver chain holding the seedling ring and studied it—its significance far more compelling now. “I’ll think of you, just like I promised.”
“And I’ll think of you, just like I have every day,” Tamani said. “Good-bye, Laurel.”
He turned and walked back down the curving path and Laurel’s eyes followed his back. Each step he took seemed to take a piece of her heart with it. His green shirt was about to disappear behind a tree, and Laurel squeezed her eyes shut.
When she opened them, he was gone.
And it was as if the magic of the forest had left with him. The life that she could feel all around her—the magic that seeped through the gateway. The trees around her felt lifeless and empty without it.
“Wait,” she whispered. She took a step after him and her feet began to run. “No!” The cry ripped itself from her throat as she pushed branches out of her way. “Tamani, wait!” She rounded another corner and her eyes searched for him. “Tamani, please!” Her feet pressed onward, desperate for a glimpse of that deep-green shirt.
Then he was there, turned half toward her with a guarded expression etched across his face. She didn’t stop or even slow her step. When she reached him, she grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists, pulling him to her, pushing her mouth up into his. Heat swirled through her as she pulled his face closer, tighter. His arms wound around her and their bodies melded with a rightness she didn’t bother to question. Her lips filled with the sweetness of his mouth, and Tamani held her against him as if he could somehow pull her inside of him, make her part of him.
And for a moment, she did feel like part of him. As if their kiss bridged the gap between two worlds, even if only for that one brief, sparkling moment.
A sigh that held the weight of years shuddered out of Tamani as their faces drew apart. “Thank you,” Tamani whispered, almost too quiet to be heard.
“I…” Laurel thought of David, waiting back home for her return. Why, when she was with one, could she think only of the other? It wasn’t fair, to feel so torn all the time. Not to her or David or Tamani. She looked up, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. But my parents are in danger. They need me, Tam.” Laurel felt a tear slide down her cheek. “I have to protect them.”
“I know. I shouldn
’t have asked.”
“If it weren’t for them, I…” I’d what? she thought.
She didn’t know the answer.
“The little faerie who gave you her ring, I don’t remember her, Tam. I don’t remember you. But something…some part of me does. Something inside me cares about you from back then.” She lowered her head. “And I care about you now.”
Tamani smiled a strange, melancholy smile. “Thank you for that glimmer of hope, however fleeting.”
“There’s always hope, Tamani.”
“There is now.”
She nodded, forced her fingers to release Tamani’s shirt, and turned back the way she had come.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
AN AUTHOR IS ONLY ONE SMALL PART OF THE PROCESS involved in creating a book, and there are a lot of people who deserve my unending gratitude. To my incredible agent, Jodi Reamer; where in the world would I be without you? To Tara Weikum, my editor; I am convinced there is no one else who could have molded this book more perfectly than you. Huge thanks for Erica Sussman’s continued assistance; I appreciate you sticking with me. Thanks to Tara’s assistant, Jocelyn Davies, whose bright smile and helpfulness are so noticed and appreciated. The entire team at Harper has been beyond extraordinary. A special thanks to Melissa Dittmar, Liz Frew, Cristina Gilbert, Andrea Pappenheimer, and Dina Sherman, who all went out of their way to make me feel welcome. And to Laura Kaplan, for all the work she’s already done, and the mountain of work she’ll do in the future. Harper is truly the place to be.
Where would I be without old friends who have been with me from the beginning? Thanks to David McAfee, Pat Wood, Michelle Zink, and John Zakour, all of whom believed in me more than I ever believed in myself. Stephenie, you have opened so many doors for me; I will always be grateful. Thanks. And, of course, new friends—Sarah Rees Brennan, Saundra Mitchell, and Carrie Ryan, plus the rest of the incredible Debs at www.feastofawesome.com. You are all awesome like whoa. A huge thank-you to my incredible fiction instructor at LC—as well as fellow author—Claire Davis; the foundation of my writing skills I owe to you. A special shout-out to the Carson girls, Hannah, Emma, and Bethany, for being my betas. You guys are priceless!