Destined

“Use this,” he said, handing her his mobile.

It felt morbid to touch the phone, but Laurel braced herself and reached out to take it. She dialled the shop and silently begged for her mom to pick up.

“Nature’s Cure!” her mom said. Just the familiar sound of her mother’s voice made her want to cry.

“Mom,” Laurel said, realising she didn’t even know what to say.

“We’re busy helping customers right now, but if you leave a message we’ll call you right back.”

Laurel’s throat tightened. Just the machine. She waited for the beep and took a deep breath. “H-hi, Mom,” Laurel said, clearing her throat as her voice cracked. “We… we’re leaving. We’re going to Avalon,” Laurel said quickly, glad her mother was the only person at the store who had the voice-mail password. “Shar — Shar got caught, and we have to go tell Jamison.”

She wasn’t sure what else to say; hated that it was a recording. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you,” Laurel whispered before jabbing her finger against the End Call button. She stared down at the phone in her hand for a long moment, knowing that if she looked anywhere else or tried to speak, she would start to cry. She hoped, prayed, that those weren’t the last words her parents would hear from her.

Tamani reached out his hand.

After a shuddering breath Laurel returned the phone to him. He flipped through his contact list and put the phone to his ear.

“Aaron. Shar is dead. Klea has Yuki and an army of trolls. They’re immune to Autumn magic and they know where the gate is. I’m taking Laurel to Avalon. When you’ve finished cleaning up at the apartment, I suggest you gather everyone who isn’t watching Laurel’s parents and head to the land. You’ll probably end up nipping at Klea’s heels. Goddess protect you.”

Every word came out evenly, tonelessly. But when Tamani ended the call, he turned the phone off and dropped it on the seat as though it had burned him. Laurel wondered if he would ever pick it up again.

Two final messages — one a heartfelt good bye, one a seemingly calm business call, despite its devastating message.

Laurel shuddered. It would almost have been better if Tamani had shouted, raged. But he was hiding everything, even from her, as he sat, his head pressed against the window. She felt helpless.

About five miles outside Crescent City, though, he ran one hand down Laurel’s arm and laced his fingers through hers, pulling her very subtly closer. His eyes remained fixed on the scenery outside his window, but his tight grip was sign enough that he needed an anchor. She found herself strangely proud to be the one he finally reached for. Even if her fingers were starting to ache.

No one said anything for most of the trip, at least in part because Chelsea had gone back to sleep, curled awkwardly in the semi-reclined passenger seat. It was probably good she hadn’t heard Shar’s call; no doubt sleep wouldn’t come easily if she had. Eventually, a rough stretch of asphalt jostled her awake, and she unbuckled her seat belt so she could turn round and talk to Laurel and Tamani.

“So, um, when we get there, what do we do?” Her eyes dropped briefly to Laurel and Tamani’s joined hands, but she said nothing.

Tamani turned from the window for the first time, his face — even his eyes — calm. “We go to the gate, we explain our urgency, request entrance, and if we’re lucky, they let us in. And by us, I mean Laurel and me. No human has set foot in Avalon in over a thousand years.”

“We want to help,” David said. “You don’t think they’ll let us?”

Tamani’s hand slid out of Laurel’s as he leaned forwards. “We’ve been over this,” he said, not unkindly. “Your help is not the kind they’re going to want. I suggest you drop us off and drive away as quickly as possible. Go south — not back to Laurel’s house. The sentries there will protect your parents,” he said, turning briefly to Laurel, “but the last thing they need is more people to confuse everything. Go to Eureka, or McKinleyville.” He hesitated. “Go… Christmas shopping or something.”

“The mall the week before Christmas. Sounds awesome,” Chelsea drawled.

“Go eat pie in Orick, then. Point is, don’t go back to Crescent City, preferably until tomorrow or the next day.”

“How are we supposed to explain that to our parents?” David asked.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you insisted on coming,” Tamani said, his tone somehow sharper without gaining the slightest bit of volume.

David just shook his head. “We’re on the same side, man.”

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