Wings

“Um…it didn’t work,” Laurel said quietly.

Tamani’s face turned wary. “What do you mean?” he asked in a low, serious tone.

“My mom’s selling the land.”

“To who? No one’s come out to look. We’d have taken care of it.”

“I don’t know; some guy my dad met in Brookings.”

Tamani leaned forward. “Laurel, this is very important. You can’t let her sell.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, because I live here. I wouldn’t really appreciate being homeless. But—” He glanced around and growled in frustration. “I can’t explain everything right now, but you can’t let her sell. Whatever it takes, you need to talk to her when you get home and do anything you can to convince her to tell this guy no.”

“Um, that could be a problem.”

“Why?”

“The offer’s already in. They’re drawing up the papers soon.”

“Oh, no.” Tamani pushed his hair off his forehead. “This is bad, this is so bad. Shar’s going to kill me.” He sighed. “Can you do anything about it?”

“It’s not really my decision,” Laurel said. “I can’t tell them what to do.”

“I’m just asking you to try. Say…something. We’ll try to figure it out from over here too. If you knew how important this land is to the realm, you wouldn’t sleep until it was safe. I don’t know that I’ll be able to sleep until you come back and tell me it’s safe.”

“Why?”

He released a breath in an exasperated hiss. “I can’t say — it’s forbidden.”

“Forbidden? I’m a faerie, aren’t I?”

“You don’t understand, Laurel. You don’t get to know everything just because you’re one of us — not yet. Even in the realm, young faeries aren’t allowed to enter the human world until they’ve proven their loyalty — if at all. You’re asking me to reveal one of the greatest secrets of our species. You can’t expect that of me.”

Several seconds passed in silence. “I’ll do what I can,” Laurel finally said.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

She forced a smile. “My parents are going to think I’m nuts.”

“That’s okay with me.”

Laurel looked at him for a few seconds before reaching out to smack his shoulder.

Tamani just laughed.

Then he sobered and stared at her. Hesitantly, he slid closer and let his fingers run down her bare arm. “I’m glad you came today,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

“I…I think maybe I missed you too.”

“Really?” Hope shone in his eyes so raw that Laurel had to look away and laugh nervously.

“You know, after I got done thinking you were a crazy homeless guy.”

They laughed together and Laurel marveled at the soft, tinkling quality of Tamani’s voice. It made a warm tingle shiver up her back. She glanced at her watch. “I…need to get going,” she said, apology heavy in her voice.

“Come back soon,” Tamani said. “We’ll talk more.”

Laurel smiled. “I’d like that.”

“And you promise you’ll talk to your parents?”

She nodded. “I will.”

“Will you bring me news?”

“As soon as I can. But I don’t know when that will be.”

“Are you going to tell your parents about all this?” Tamani asked.

“I don’t know,” Laurel said. “I don’t really think they’d believe me. Especially since I don’t have the blossom to prove it anymore. That’s how I convinced David.”

“David,” Tamani said with a scoffing tone.

“What’s wrong with David?”

“Nothing, I guess. But are you sure he’s trustworthy?”

“I’m sure.”

Tamani sighed. “I guess you had to tell someone. I don’t like it, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a human. Everyone knows humans can’t be trusted. You should be careful.”

“I don’t have to be careful with him. He wouldn’t tell.”

“I hope you’re right.”

They walked slowly, Laurel leading the way down the familiar path. They stopped at the edge of the tree line. “Are you sure you have to go?” Tamani asked quietly.

Laurel was surprised by the emotion in his voice. She had sensed in their conversation that he liked her…a lot. But this seemed like something more. Something more personal. She was a little surprised to realize that she was reluctant to leave as well. “My parents don’t even know I’m here. I kind of snuck away.”

Tamani nodded. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

Laurel laughed nervously. “You hardly know me.”

“I’ll miss you anyway.” He met her eyes. “If I give you something, will you keep it to remember me by — and maybe think of me just a little more?”

“Maybe.” Tamani’s dark green eyes seemed to see through her — into her.

He snapped a thin piece of string from around his neck and held out a small, glistening circle. “This is for you.”

He laid the tiny sparkle on her hand. It was a shining gold circlet, just bigger than a pea, with a minuscule crystal flower on the top. “What is it?” Laurel asked in awe.

“It’s a ring for a seedling,” Tamani replied. “You know, a baby faerie. Every seedling gets a ring when they are young. If you wear it, it grows with you. Winter faeries make them. Well, Spring faeries make them, but Winter faeries enchant them.” He held up his hand to show her a plain silver band. “See, this is mine. It used to be as small as that one. You’re not a seedling anymore, so it won’t adjust to your finger, but I thought maybe you’d like it.”

The tiny ring was exquisite, beautiful in every detail. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“To help you feel more like one of us. You can hang it on a necklace.” He hesitated a moment longer. “I just think you should have it.”

Laurel looked up at him in question, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wished she had more time to draw secrets from him. “I’ll wear it always,” she said.

“And think of me?” His eyes held her captive, and she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She started to turn, but before she could step away, Tamani grabbed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, he raised her hand to his face and brushed his lips over her knuckles. For just a second, his eyes were unguarded. A spark went through Laurel at what she saw there: raw, unbridled desire. Before she could look any closer, he smiled, and the flash was gone.

Laurel walked toward her bike, her breath shallow as she tried to stop the warm flush that was spreading through her body from the place Tamani’s lips had touched. She kept glancing back at him as she rode toward the highway. Every time she turned, his eyes were still locked on her. Even when she pedaled onto the bike path along the road, she could feel them following her long after she could see them.

FIFTEEN

IT WAS FOUR O’CLOCK WHEN LAUREL PARKED HER bike in the garage, way later than any study session could really justify. She braced herself and pushed open the front door.

Her father was napping on the couch, his snores a quiet, familiar rhythm. No threat of trouble from that source. She listened for her mother and heard bottles clinking in the kitchen. “Mom?” she called as she came around the corner.

“There you are. You and David must have gotten that last page done quickly. I only called half an hour