Spells

wasn’t entirely convinced he had earned.

He tasted like apples and nectarines, and the smell from the grass had seeped into his clothes. Laurel often noticed the biological differences between the two of them, but today they seemed the same. With the smell and taste of nature all around him, David could almost have been a faerie.

“How is your blossom?” David asked, stroking it very gently.

“It’s okay now,” Laurel said. “The first couple of days it still ached, but I think it’s going to be fine.” She craned her neck, trying to see the damaged side. “I hate the way it’s healing, though. The ends are dry and brown. It’s really not very pretty.”

“But it was some major damage,” David said. He kissed her forehead. “It will grow back next year and will be as beautiful as ever.”

“Wow, next year,” Laurel said. “I can hardly even imagine next year. Sometimes it feels like this year will never end.”

“And last year — doesn’t it seem like ages ago? So much has happened.” David laughed. “Would you have imagined a year ago that we’d be lying here today?”

Laurel just smiled and shook her head. “I thought I was on death’s door last year.”

“What do you think we’ll be doing next year?”

“This same thing, I hope,” Laurel said, snuggling against him.

“Well, other than that.” He lay back, lacing his fingers together to support his head. Laurel rolled onto her side, her stomach pressed against his ribs. “I mean, senior year next year. We’ll be picking colleges and stuff.”

Laurel’s heart sank and she looked away from him. Ever since Chelsea had brought up the SAT tests the thought of her educational future had been a little hard to think about. “I don’t think college is in my future.”

“What? Why not?”

“I imagine they’ll want me at the Academy full-time,” she said, a little despondently.

David propped his head up on his elbow so he could look at her. “I always figured you would study at the Academy off and on — maybe full-time eventually — but that doesn’t mean you can’t go to college.”

“What would be the point?” Laurel shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to have a career someday. I’m a faerie.”

“So?”

“They’ll want me to do…faerie stuff.” She gestured vaguely with her hands.

David pursed his lips. “What does it matter what they want? What do you want?”

“I…don’t really know, I guess. What else would I do?”

“You’re way more than just a faerie, Laurel. You have this opportunity to do something most faeries never get to do. To live like a human. To make that choice.”

“But they’ll never see any of that as important. The only thing that matters to anyone in Avalon is that I learn how to be a Fall faerie — and that I inherit the land.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think is important. You’re the one who decides what’s important. Same with anything in life. The value you give it is the only value it has.” He paused. “Don’t let them convince you that humans aren’t important,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “If you think we’re important, then we are.”

“But what would I do?”

“What did you want to do before you found out you were a faerie?”

Laurel shrugged. “I hadn’t decided on just one thing. I thought about being an English teacher or a college professor.” She grinned. “For a while I thought about being a nurse. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that.”

“How come?”

She rolled her eyes. “My mom would just die if I ended up working in a hospital.” She looked up at David. “I’ve always kind of wanted to be in a position where I could help people, you know?”

“What about being a doctor?”

She shook her head. “That’s the thing — I don’t think I’m really that interested in medicine…or teaching, either. But teachers and nurses help people, so I thought maybe that’s what I’d do. But I really don’t know.”

“Well, whatever you decide to do, you should do it. But it should be what you want.”

“Sometimes…sometimes I don’t think I have control over my life anymore. I mean, do I have the option of not attending the Academy? It’s the role I’ve always been intended for.”

“What are they going to do? Drag you kicking and screaming back to Avalon? I kinda doubt it.”

Laurel nodded slowly. He was right. Maybe she could stay.

But will I want to stay?

For now, all she wanted was to enjoy David. He looked like he was about to say something else, but she cut him off with a kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you for this,” she murmured against his mouth. “It’s just what I needed. You always seem to know exactly what I need.”

“My pleasure,” David said, smiling softly. The air around them was full of the scent of pine and fruit, damp earth and the soft aroma of Laurel’s blossom. Everything was perfect as he kissed her again, his lips always so soft, so gentle. Now his hands were in her hair as Laurel raised one knee up to rest against his thigh, their bodies snug together like well-fitting puzzle pieces. She never wanted this to end.

David pulled his face back and studied her, staring until Laurel giggled self-consciously. “What?”

David’s mouth, usually so quick to smile, stayed serious. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “And not just because of what you look like. Everything about you is beautiful. Sometimes I’m afraid this is the most awesome dream ever, and I’m going to wake up someday.” He chuckled. “And quite frankly, you being a faerie isn’t exactly helping.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the glade. “Well,” she said coyly, “I guess I’ll have to prove to you just how real I am.” She pressed herself close against his chest and lifted her head to kiss him again.

TWENTY

LAUREL SPRAWLED DOWN ON HER BED WITH A smile. It had been such a great day — and a break she really needed. With a contented sigh she spread her arms out and something sharp hit her elbow. She glanced over at a familiar-looking square of ribbon-bedecked parchment. A nervous jolt shot through her and she hoped this wasn’t an early summons to come back to the Academy for the winter break in December. Much as she had enjoyed her summer in Avalon, she didn’t want to spend the rest of high school being summoned to the Academy every time she had a break from school. She had a life!

Hesitantly, she pulled the ends of the ribbon and opened the folded square. A thrill of excitement replaced her dread.

You are cordially invited to attend the festival of Samhain to usher in the New Year. Should you choose to attend, please present yourself at the gate on the morning of November 1st.

Formal dress is requested.

Then, scribbled in boyish script at the lower right hand corner of the invitation, was a note.

I’ll escort you. Tam

Nothing else.

She touched the signature at the bottom. It said so much and yet so little. There was no closing; not “Love, Tam” or “Your Tam.” Or even “Sincerely, Tam.” But he had signed it Tam, not Tamani. Maybe it was in case someone else opened the invitation. Or maybe he had noticed that she only called him Tam when they were having a particularly close moment.

And maybe it meant nothing at all.

Besides, that was the least of her concerns. How was she going to make this work? She couldn’t tell David. Not after the way he had reacted last time she’d gone to see Tamani. Suddenly she wondered how much today was inspired by the long Saturday she’d just spent at the land. Telling David she wanted to go spend another entire day