in the soft breeze. Her hair was jet black and streamed down her back in soft waves that reached just past her waist. A delicate crystal crown balanced atop her head with strings of diamonds attached that fell into her curls and glimmered in the sunlight.
But it was her face Laurel focused on.
Pale green eyes surveyed the crowd. Although Laurel knew the face would be considered beautiful by any fashion magazine’s standards, she couldn’t get past the pursed lips, the tiny furrow between her eyes, the slight lift of one eyebrow as if she were loathe to acknowledge the deep bows that everyone around her had dropped into.
Including Tamani.
Which left Laurel alone standing straight up.
She hurried to bow like everyone else before the Queen saw her. It apparently worked; the Queen’s gaze fluttered over the crowd without pausing, and within seconds, the Fall faeries had resumed their upright stances and their buzzing conversations.
Marion turned with a whispering flutter of her gown and walked to the dais, where three ornate seats sat in prominence over the others. Laurel watched Jamison take the little girl’s hand, helping her up the steps and into a fluffy chair at the Queen’s left. Laurel caught his eye and he smiled and whispered something to the little girl before turning and approaching them. The crowd didn’t stop talking or laughing as Jamison passed by, but they subtly shifted out of his way, clearing a path.
“My dear Laurel,” Jamison said, his eyes, now green to match his robes, sparkling. “I’m so happy you’ve come.” He clapped Tamani on the shoulder. “And you, m’boy. It’s been too many months since I’ve seen you. Overworking yourself at that gate of yours, I imagine.”
Tamani smiled, shedding some of his brooding air. “Indeed, sir. Laurel keeps us busy with her mischief.”
“I imagine she does,” Jamison said with a grin. The sound of stringed instruments being tuned filled the vast coliseum. “I had best take my seat,” Jamison said. But before he turned he lifted his hands to Laurel’s face, gently framing her cheeks with his fingers. “I’m so glad you were able to join us,” he said, his voice a quiet whisper. Then he was gone, the rich green of his robes rustling away through the crowd.
Tamani nudged Laurel toward seats on the far end of the large balcony, where Katya was waving at them.
“Who’s that little girl?” Laurel asked, craning her neck to watch Jamison hand something to the girl before taking his seat.
“That’s Yasmine. She’s a Winter faerie.”
“Oh. Will she be the Queen someday?”
Tamani shook his head. “Doubtful. She’s too close in age to Marion. Same thing happened with Jamison and Cora, the late Queen.”
“There’s only three Winter faeries in all of Avalon?”
“Only three. And often fewer.” Tamani smiled. “My mother was the Gardener for both Marion and Yasmine. Yasmine blossomed just months before my mother retired. Very few Gardeners have the honor of tending two Winter faeries.” He tilted his head toward the young Winter faerie. “I got to know Yasmine a little before she was sent to the Winter Palace. Sweet thing. Good heart, I think. Jamison is very fond of her.”
Just then a small but elaborately dressed faerie stepped out from behind the massive curtains that stretched across the stage. The crowd hushed.
“Get ready,” Tamani whispered in her ear. “You’ve never seen
THE CURTAINS OPENED TO REVEAL AN EXQUISITE forest scene with bright beams of multicolored lights shining down in soft circles. Laurel realized that there was no way to dim the light in the coliseum — and no need either. Everything on the stage seemed to glow from within — brighter, clearer, more real even than Laurel’s immediate surroundings. She was riveted; surely this was Summer magic at work.
Two faeries knelt in the middle of the stage, their arms wrapped around each other, and soft, romantic music drifted up from the orchestra. They looked pretty much like regular ballet dancers, the man with perfect, mocha- colored skin, well-defined arms, and closely cut hair, the woman with long, lean limbs, her auburn hair pulled tightly back. The couple rose and began dancing on soft, bare feet.
“No toe shoes?” Laurel whispered to Tamani.
“What are toe shoes?”
“What’s up with the beard?” she asked Tamani. The male dancer was wearing a black beard that blended in with his costume, but as Laurel watched, she realized it trailed almost down to his waist.
Tamani softly cleared his throat and for a second Laurel thought he was going to avoid her question entirely. “You have to understand,” he finally whispered. “Most of these faeries have never seen a real human. Their idea of what a human looks like is almost as distorted as what humans think of faeries. Faeries are”—he searched for the right word—“intrigued by the idea that humans grow fur on their faces. It’s very animalistic.”
Laurel suddenly realized that she had never seen a faerie with a beard. The idea simply hadn’t occurred to her. She thought about how Tamani’s face was always smooth and soft — without the gritty hint of stubble that David’s usually had. She’d never actually noticed before.
“The dancers who are playing humans also move less gracefully, to show that they are animals, not faeries,” Tamani continued.
Turning her attention back to the play, Laurel watched the dancers rise and fall with just that hint of plodding. Knowing now that it was deliberate, she appreciated the talent it must take — to gracefully portray a lack of grace. She banished to the back of her mind a handful of angry thoughts about perpetuating stereotypes. Those would have to wait.
Two more bearded dancers entered the stage, and the woman tried to hide behind her partner. “What’s happening?” Laurel asked.
Tamani pointed to the original couple. “That’s Heather and Lotus. They’re secret lovers, but Heather’s father there”—he pointed to an older faerie with a bushy brown beard shot through with gray—“orders her to marry Darnel instead. The human custom of parents arranging marriages is ridiculous, by the way.”
“Well, they don’t anymore. At least not where I come from.”
“Still.”
Laurel watched as the two men departed and Heather and Lotus came together for a mournful duet. The music was like nothing Laurel had ever heard before and she felt tears building up in her eyes for these star-crossed humans who danced so beautifully to the orchestra’s woeful refrain.
The lights illuminating the stage brightened and Lotus leaped onto a rock, casting his arms wide in an elaborate proclamation. “What’s happening now?” Laurel asked, tugging on Tamani’s shirt in her excitement.
“Lotus has decided that he will prove himself to Heather’s father by retrieving a golden apple from the Isle of Hesperides. Also known as Avalon,” he added with a smile.
The stage cleared, and the set shimmered for an instant before morphing into an enormous flower garden with blooms of every imaginable color covering the perimeter of the stage. Laurel gasped. “How did they do that?”
Tamani smiled. “Much of the set is an illusion. This is why Summer faeries are in charge of our entertainment.”
Laurel leaned forward, trying to study the new scenery, but she didn’t have much time before the faux glade was filled with dancing faeries in bright, multicolored costumes. She saw instantly just how obviously ungraceful the “human dancers” had been. The company of faeries whirled through elaborate choreography with a grace that would have put Pavlova to shame. After a few minutes of the incredible corps, a rather tall faerie in a sheer, clinging gown entered from stage right. The company of faeries dropped to their knees, allowing the female faerie to take
