Destined

sucked in a breath. That felt right. “A catalyst,” she said softly. “Something to unlock its potential.” But what?

Fiona shook her head. “This is why I had to move on to other projects. I even had the same idea you did — I travelled to the Manor. They told me humans have driven many plants into extinction over the last few centuries. The final ingredient must be one of those.”

“No,” Laurel insisted. “No, I know the final ingredient. It’s on the tip of my tongue. What grows in California that doesn’t grow in Avalon?”

“Laurel,” Chelsea said hesitantly. “Your face — it has dark spots on it.”

Laurel reached her hands up to touch her cheeks, remembering the way Tamani had done the same thing. How long had it been? It didn’t matter — she couldn’t think about it now.

If you can think like the Huntress, you can do as she has done.

The viridefaeco potion had been lost for centuries. But Klea had figured out how to make it again. What made her so special? She was always willing to push boundaries. She had probably tested both toxins and antidotes on herself, risking everything for her work. And hadn’t Laurel done that? Hadn’t she taken the poison into herself, to better understand it? But the more she understood the poison creeping through her body, the more she feared she couldn’t overcome it after all. Laurel picked up a fresh sample of the base and closed her eyes, continuing to run her finger through the solution, chanting her mantra in her mind. Think like Klea, think like Klea.

Avalon has forgotten how much humans have to offer.

Laurel’s eyes popped open as Klea’s words echoed through her head. “Chelsea,” she said softly. “I need Chelsea!”

“What?” Chelsea said. “What do you need?”

“I need you. Some hair, some spit… no, better make it blood. Human DNA.” She sorted through the supplies Yeardley had gathered. “The viridefaeco potion was lost after the gates were sealed — after all human interaction was cut off, right?” she asked, turning to Fiona, who nodded. “That’s not coincidence — it’s the reason it was forgotten; the reason they destroyed the second half of the instructions. The catalyst for this potion is human DNA. Chelsea,” she said, turning to her friend with a small preparation knife, “may I?”

Chelsea nodded without hesitation, holding out her hand.

Laurel held the knife close to Chelsea’s fingertip. Just a tiny poke, she told herself, but it was still difficult to lay that blade against her friend’s skin and press down just hard enough to cut.

“Should I do this part?” Fiona asked quietly.

Laurel shook her head. “No. I have to do it,” she said, strangely certain. She pulled the large vial in front of her, touching it for the first time. A tiny crimson bead was pooling on Chelsea’s finger; she looked even more exhausted than Laurel, but too excited to see what happened next to suffer much pain.

“Avalon’s last chance,” Laurel said under her breath. And Tamani’s, she added to herself. Then she tipped Chelsea’s finger and carefully let one drop of blood fall into the vial, stirring it with a long- handled bamboo spoon.

As soon as the blood hit the solution, it changed. Laurel continued stirring and a sense of exhilaration spread through her as the translucent mixture took on a purple hue that matched the vial Laurel had seen ever so briefly in Klea’s hand. It was working! All of the ingredients seemed to awaken as one and the potency of the base increased tenfold — a thousandfold! A giggle bubbled up in Laurel’s throat and Chelsea grabbed her arm.

“Did it work?”

Laurel was so confident she lowered her finger right into the solution.

The toxin didn’t stand a chance.

“It worked. It worked, oh, Chelsea it worked!” Laurel felt light-headed with relief. “Please,” she said, turning to Fiona, “I need vials. Right now!”

She had to get to Tamani.

When Laurel burst through the tree line the dimly lit circle was so still she wasn’t completely sure anyone was alive.

Tamani’s head was propped on David’s leg. “I think he’s still breathing,” David said when Laurel hopped over the trench and fell to her knees beside Tamani’s body. “But he stopped opening his eyes about five minutes ago.”

Tamani was still shirtless, his chest and shoulders swathed in black. Laurel held his face in her hands, feeling the toxin within him try to attack her, but the viridefaeco Chelsea had insisted she swallow before leaving the Academy repelled it with ease.

“Come back… to say… goodbye?” Klea asked, wheezing with laughter. Even swollen with infection, lingering on the brink of death, she was a bitter witch.

“Please live,” Laurel begged under her breath as she poured the potion into Tamani’s mouth and closed his lips over it.

She waited as the seconds dragged by, her eyes filling with tears as she gripped Tamani’s arm, willing him to wake. The viridefaeco had started curing her almost instantaneously — why wasn’t it working now? A minute passed. Two.

David touched her arm. “Laurel, I don’t—”

“No!” she shouted, pushing his hand away. “It’s going to work. It has to work. Tamani, please!” She bent over him, pressing her face to his chest, hiding her tears, wishing faeries had something like a heartbeat to assure her that he was alive. He had to be alive. She wasn’t sure she could live another moment if he wasn’t with her. What did any of this matter if, in the end, she was too late to save Tamani? She straightened, searching his face for some sign of consciousness. A lock of his hair hung partway over one eye and she reached out to push it back off his forehead, her hand heavy with despair.

Halfway through the motion, she stopped. The tiny black tendrils that had begun to reach across Tamani’s face were retreating. She squinted at them; had she imagined it? Was it a trick of the darkness? No, that line had been all the way across his eyebrow; now it was only halfway. She held her breath, hardly daring to move as she watched it lighten and disappear. His chest rose — ever so slightly — and fell again.

“Breathe again,” Laurel commanded in a barely audible whisper.

Nothing moved.

“Again!” Laurel demanded.

His chest rose once more. This time he choked and sputtered against the viridefaeco caught in his throat and swallowed hard.

Laurel let out a shout of exhilaration and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him against her with glee. His breathing was still shallow, but it was even, and a few seconds later, he opened his eyes — those beautiful green eyes she’d feared would never look at her again.

“Laurel,” he said, his voice cracking.

Tears fell on her cheeks, but this time it was tears of joy and she laughed, her voice echoing through the woods as if the very trees were rejoicing with her.

Tamani smiled weakly. “You did it.”

“I had help.”

“Still.”

Laurel nodded and ran her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes with a contented sigh.

But Laurel wasn’t done yet.

Releasing Tamani, she stood and walked over to Klea. Her face was black and swollen, but her pale green eyes blazed with malice. She had to have heard everything — known her plan had failed for good.

“Viridefaeco,” Klea whispered. Her breathing was ragged and she was still on her back — the same position she’d been in for an hour. Laurel wondered if she could even move anymore. “Well, aren’t you… aren’t you something. Bet you think you’re pretty… smart.”

“I think you’re smart,” Laurel said calmly. It was a strange truth to voice. “Open your mouth,” she said, holding out the second vial.

“No!” Klea snarled, more fervently than Laurel would have thought possible from the dying faerie.