had made with his knife. There was still no light or sound coming from the cabin, which seemed odd; it wasn’t like trolls to sleep at night.
“Maybe we should just storm the place and get it over with,” said Tamani.
“You’re in no condition for a fight,” said Shar. “Besides, I’d like to keep them under observation for a bit, get a feel for their numbers. For all we know, there are thirty trolls in there, just waiting for us to knock.”
It wasn’t much longer before Tamani heard the telltale whisper of leaves all around him, heralding the arrival of at least ten sentries.
“Can you take it from here?” he asked Shar.
“If you like. Where are you off to?”
Tamani held up Shar’s burlap pouch, then tucked it into his pack. “I have to get this back to Laurel. She may be able to figure out what it is.”
“I hope so,” Shar said, staring at the moonlit cabin.
With that, Tamani turned and ran, his bare feet whispering through the blanket of autumn leaves. He felt like he could have made the run with his eyes closed — as though all paths led to Laurel.
Tamani shook his head, realizing it was starting to swim — blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision. He blinked hard and forced himself to run faster, trying to push away the weariness that threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe Shar was right — maybe he
He braced himself against Laurel’s back door and knocked, feeling his eyes close even as she came into sight. She opened the door in wordless surprise and he only managed one step into the kitchen before the ground rushed up to meet him.
LAUREL HAD SET HER ALARM FOR HALF AN HOUR before sunrise so she could go downstairs and check on Tamani, but she was already awake when it sounded. Her whole night had felt more like a restless dream than actual sleep. Once she’d convinced herself he was okay, Laurel draped a blanket over Tamani and went to bed. She considered trying to move him — the kitchen floor didn’t look very comfortable — but in the end, decided to leave him in peace. He’d probably slept on worse out at the land.
Glancing at the mirror and finger-combing her hair a little, Laurel crept downstairs as silently as she could. He was still there — he hadn’t so much as stirred. The morning light was gray and soft, and Laurel tiptoed over to sit where she could see Tamani’s face. It was strange to see him sleeping — completely relaxed, his expression unguarded. In some ways, it was weird to think of him sleeping at all. He was a constant in her life — someone who was always there when she needed him, day or night. She had never seen him when he wasn’t alert and ready.
She watched him as the kitchen brightened to purple, then pink. Finally, a square of yellow sunlight started crawling across the kitchen floor. Tamani’s eyelashes fluttered, catching the light and casting narrow shadows over his bronze cheeks. Then his eyes snapped open and focused on Laurel. Instantly, he rolled away from her, coming up on his feet, hands held defensively in front of him.
“Tam!” Laurel said.
He looked at her, seeing her clearly for the first time, then straightened, dropping his hands. “Sorry,” he said, his voice rough and scratchy. He looked around the kitchen in confusion. “What happened?”
“You burst in here last night around ten. And then you collapsed. I checked with Aaron out back. All he would say was that I was safe and he didn’t know why you were here. Is everything okay?”
Tamani sat carefully on a barstool and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, more or less. I just pushed myself a little too hard.”
“A
“Maybe more than a little,” Tamani admitted, grinning wryly. “I should have just bunked out and waited till morning. Hey, can I steal something to eat, please?”
“Sure,” Laurel said, going to the refrigerator. “What do you want? Peaches? Strawberries? I have some mango.”
“Do you have vegetables? I would kill for some broccoli right now. No,” he amended. “I really shouldn’t have broccoli. I eat too much green stuff as it is — don’t want my hair to change.”
Laurel scrutinized the fridge. “Jicama?” she asked. “It’s white.”
“Actually that sounds really good, thank you.”
Laurel pulled out a dish of jicama her mother had chopped up last night and set the whole thing in front of Tamani. It was way more than she could have eaten, but after last night, Tamani might need it all. Laurel watched him down several slices. “So what happened?” she asked, snagging a piece of the white veggie for herself.
Instead of answering, Tamani pulled a small pouch from his pocket and handed it to her. “Be very careful with that,” he said, curling her fingers around the bag. “I’m not sure I can get more.”
“What is it?”
Between the sunlight and the food, Tamani was growing more animated. He related his adventures from the previous night. “This powder… it’s like it slices out a piece of space and folds it in on itself. It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Laurel peered into the pouch, unsure she knew how to begin testing such an unusual mixture. “You think this is fae magic?” she asked.
“Possibly. It could be some new troll magic. Or old human magic, for all I know. But we seem to be accumulating a lot of evidence of a rogue Mixer.”
“Are you still thinking it could be Yuki?” Laurel asked quietly.
Tamani hesitated, his brows knit. “I’m not sure. I never, ever discount a possibility, but she’s so young. Could
Laurel shook her head. “I seriously doubt it. It sounds incredibly complicated.”
“But who else could it be?”
They both sat silently, Tamani munching and thinking, Laurel absently sifting through the powder with her fingertips.
“You know, everyone seems to think Yuki is some huge anomaly,” Laurel said. “But if there’s one wild faerie, why not two? Or ten? Or a hundred? What if Yuki is just some kind of… diversion?”
Tamani pondered this for a moment. “It’s something to consider,” he said. “But we didn’t chase faeries to that cabin. Just trolls. And we don’t even know if they’re after you, or Yuki.”
Laurel nodded.
“Speaking of Yuki, I haven’t seen her in three days, and since we have a holiday next week, I had better go make amends while I can.”
Laurel suppressed a wave of jealousy. It was his job!
Tamani walked over to the back door and swung it open, taking a deep breath of fresh morning air. “Thank you for the exquisite comfort of your kitchen floor,” he said with a chuckle, though she knew he must be rather chagrined over the whole experience, “and for the excellent breakfast. I’m off.”
Tamani sprinted to his apartment, trying not to be seen. In his handmade breeches and bare feet he would probably look like a wild man to any humans who spied him. After taking a quick shower — an indulgence he was really starting to get used to — and throwing on new clothes for the day, Tamani dashed out of the apartment and toward Yuki’s house, hoping to catch her on her way to school.
He speed-walked up her driveway just as she was unlocking her bike from the porch rail. “Hey there,” he said, turning on his flirtatious grin.
Yuki’s eyes widened, then sparkled. “Hey, Tam,” she said shyly.
Tamani smiled back. He hated going from Laurel’s house to Yuki’s house. He felt like a traitor to both of them. He was beginning to understand why Sparklers avoided sentry duty whenever possible. Their abilities made them excellent spies, and Marion’s court used them extensively in the United Kingdom and in Egypt, where human proximity made intelligence and espionage almost as important as posting guards at the gates. But pretending to be someone else on the stage could not be nearly so taxing as pretending to be someone else every single day.
Nevertheless, Tamani had his orders. Yuki seemed to have grown quite attached to him, and if he could just get her to lower her defenses, maybe he could find out what he needed to know.
