Everyone’s eyes went to the figure limping up the path toward them, leaning heavily on a beautiful ebony cane.
“Jamison!” Laurel cried.
His face was haggard and he seemed to be dragging his body as much as walking. Yuki and Klea were momentarily stunned into inaction. The pit surrounding David filled itself in and Laurel’s cage retreated back into the ground along with Tamani’s bonds. Tamani tackled Klea – her remaining faerie guards were confused, and one of them seemed to be trying to put his ruined gun back together despite it being clearly beyond repair. Laurel ran to Jamison and took his arm before anyone could think to stop her.
“You’re awake,” she breathed.
“As awake as I am going to get for the moment,” he said with a tired smile. He patted her shoulder. “But might I recommend that you stand back?”
Uncertain, Laurel took a step backwards as Jamison raised his hand, almost casually; a thick oak root stopped with a smack right against his palm. Laurel turned to see Yuki, arms outstretched, her whole body trembling. Laurel couldn’t tell if her expression was one of fear, fury, or sheer effort. Perhaps some of all three.
A crackling of leaves came from where Chelsea was hiding and Laurel knew she was about to step out.
“That’s enough!” Laurel yelled as loud as she could, and though no one withdrew, they all stopped. For a moment. “Everyone needs to just stay where they are,” she said, sparing a glance at the trees where Chelsea was, thankfully, still hidden. Even with Jamison back, Laurel wasn’t ready to give up her one secret advantage, though she knew how hard it must be for Chelsea to look on helplessly.
The time it took to get those words out was all she got. Klea barked a laugh as she managed to throw Tamani off and Yuki advanced on Jamison.
“It has always been my destiny to face you,” Yuki said quietly as David moved closer to Laurel, putting himself between her and the advancing guards with his sword raised.
“Subtle,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“It worked,” Laurel retorted, returning her focus to Yuki, who was drawing closer and closer to Jamison.
“To face me? What kind of destiny is that?” Jamison asked calmly.
“I was created to avenge Klea,” Yuki replied. “It has always been my purpose.”
“You don’t believe that,” Jamison said, and Laurel marvelled at how the wizened faerie could be so firm and yet so gentle with every word.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Yuki demanded, her eyebrows furrowed. She pushed her hands out and the earth beneath Jamison opened in a wide crack, very nearly swallowing Tamani and Klea as each struggled to subdue the other.
Latticework blades of grass hissed to catch Jamison before he had fallen even an inch, weaving a seamless, impossibly solid bridge over the pit Yuki had opened beneath him. His voice did not even waver. “No person’s life should be defined by a single purpose, especially one they didn’t choose. Who are you, Yuki?”
Yuki’s eyes darted to Klea, but she had a knife out again and was busy lunging at Tamani.
“Yuki, you—”
But Klea’s knife touched Tamani’s throat, silencing whatever he’d been about to say. “You should have been dead the second you stepped into my Bender’s sight,” Klea spat to Tamani as he fought to keep the knife from cutting his skin. “Yuki could have killed you outright.”
“I decided to take a chance on her,” Tamani replied, flinging the blade away and reclaiming his spear.
“She’s a poor bet. You got lucky.” Klea’s knife met Tamani’s spear again and again, and Laurel realised that the erstwhile troll hunter was no longer trying to kill Tamani; she was trying to get past Tamani, to strike at Jamison. Abruptly, as if waking from a dream, her guards turned their heads as one and pivoted away from David and Laurel to go aid their master.
“Stop them, David!” Laurel called.
“I can’t hurt them,” David said.
“I – I don’t think they realise that,” Laurel whispered. There was something very wrong with these guards. David stepped in front of them, holding his sword out in a threatening posture. They hesitated and Laurel caught another wisp of Jamison and Yuki’s conversation.
“Don’t act like you care about me, Bender,” Yuki sneered, waving a hand above her head in a circle. “You pretended to care about Klea, and I know how that ended.” She brought her arm down, pointing at him, and something blurred through the air towards Jamison.
“Do you?” Jamison asked, passing his hand in front of his face distractedly, as though shooing a fly. But at his movement a hundred wicked-sharp splinters of wood dropped harmlessly at his feet. “Because I would be most interested to hear what Callista told you.”
“Shut up, old man!” Klea yelled, and Tamani grunted as the heel of her hand struck his cheek, reopening the cut she’d given him that morning. He cracked his spear against her broken wrist, eliciting a shriek of pain.
“She’s not Callista anymore,” Yuki said evenly, hardly sparing them a glance, her attention riveted on Jamison.
While David held Klea’s guards at bay, Laurel looked over at Yuki’s back and for a moment wondered if she could tackle her from behind. She glanced at Jamison, but he shook his head, almost imperceptibly.
“She will always be Callista to me. Do you know why?” Jamison said, his eyes on Yuki again.
Yuki hesitated, but Jamison didn’t wait for her to reply.
“Because Callista was well intentioned and full of hopes and dreams and, above all, brilliance,” Jamison says. “And I want to remember that – not the creature she has become.”
“You made that creature. And that creature made me.” One of the trees lining the road – thankfully, not the one where Chelsea had concealed herself – bent in two, shattering with a thunderous crack and falling, unnaturally fast, towards Jamison.
“Thank you, my dear,” Jamison said with a sigh as the tree trunk flew over his head. “I do need to sit down.” The mighty trunk crashed across what remained of the road to the palace, before coming to a stop right behind Jamison’s knees. He lowered himself on to it with a quiet groan. “I confess, Laurel and Rhoslyn were only able to throw off the barest portion of the potion’s effect. I am conscious, but only just.”
Yuki’s face screwed up in anger and she stretched her arms wide, swishing them forward. Laurel had to grab on to one of the trees beside her to keep from being swept away by the tornado of plant life that spun wildly around the two Winter faeries, sequestering them.
Laurel squinted against the haze of branches and leaves, but she couldn’t see anything through the artificial storm. The wind from the cyclone forced Tamani and Klea to the ground; Tamani appeared to have lost his spear again, and now the two were grappling, unarmed. Actually Laurel couldn’t tell if they were still fighting or just using one another as counterweights against the gale. David kept to his feet, braced against the wind; the debris that bounced harmlessly away from him scattered Klea’s mindless faerie guards on to the grass. David had to back up and sweep his sword at several to get them all together again in an exercise not unlike herding cats.
The whirlwind settled as abruptly as it had begun and neither Jamison nor Yuki appeared to have been affected by it in the slightest. With a strangled yell Yuki wove her arms in front of her and again a tangle of roots burst from the ground, lashing out to besiege Jamison.
But Jamison simply fixed the ground with a stare and the roots withered away. “I wanted Callista to stay – to mould her passion and intellect into a mighty force for Avalon’s good.”
“Avalon’s good? You’d have made her into a puppet!”
“Instead, she made you into one.”
Yuki gasped, her mouth opening and closing for a few seconds before she spoke. “I am not a puppet,” she said, but her voice betrayed the tiniest tremble.
“Aren’t you?” he asked. “Then stop this. Walk away from this pointless struggle. Go to Tamani and tell him you love him. After all, isn’t
that what you really want to do?”
Tamani’s head shot up in surprise and Klea took the opportunity to twist his injured arm behind him. He cried out in pain, but kicked backwards against a fallen limb with both legs, sending both of them sprawling.
Yuki’s jaw shook at Jamison’s words and tears sparkled in her eyes. “A true hero puts others first,” she choked out.
“A true hero knows love is more powerful than hate.”
She shook her head. “I love Klea – she’s my mother.”
“You don’t love Klea; you fear her,” Jamison said. “And she’s not your mother.”
“She made me.”
“Making you doesn’t make you a mother. Laurel’s mother didn’t make her – but she loves her.”
Laurel felt a burst of pride for her human parents.
“Does Klea love you?” Jamison asked, so softly Laurel barely caught the words.
“Yuki!” Klea called desperately, but Tamani wrapped his arm across her mouth. Judging by his pained expression, she bit him for it.
“Of course,” Yuki said, a tremble in her voice.
“If you walked away from me, from Klea’s plan, from everything, right now – would Klea still love you?”
In answer Yuki put two hands up and thrust them forwards as if pushing against an invisible barrier, and a wave of grass and earth moved forwards to crush Jamison where he sat.
Jamison’s face looked haggard and worn as he glared at the wave of earth, bringing it to a standstill with hardly a gesture.
Yuki screamed, a bitter, frustrated scream that pierced the evening air. The wave rippled again, slowly – so slowly.
Then faster.
Then it was rolling like an ocean wave and Laurel gasped in fear as it reached the trunk where Jamison was sitting.
The wave of earth and grass parted, rolling past Jamison, chewing both ends off the fallen tree. Jamison still sat on what was left of the oak log, breathing heavily but unharmed. “I wronged Callista, but not in the way she believes.”
“How can there be any other way?” Yuki asked. “You lied to her, got her to trust you, and promised you’d defend her. But you didn’t. You betrayed her and voted to have her exiled.”
Klea’s head jerked up and she stilled at these words, ceasing to thrash in Tamani’s arms, where he had twisted her into a headlock.
Laurel held her breath, waiting for Jamison’s answer.
“I did not,” Jamison said, the words loud, almost echoing off the trees.
“You lie!” Yuki yelled.
Waves of earth came quickly now, emanating from Yuki in circles that tossed clumps of dirt and threw Laurel to the ground, where she clung to the grass to keep from being swept away. Even Tamani had to relinquish his hold on Klea to keep from being thrown.
“Yuki, stop!” Jamison said sternly, and the earth stilled. Jamison was on his feet now, leaning heavily on his ebony cane, staring down at Yuki with fire in his eyes. “I did not vote for Callista’s exile.”
“They told me the vote was unanimous,” Klea shouted, rising to her knees before Tamani could grab her, her face screwed up in fury. “You knew I was no Unseelie – you knew it! And you still voted to let them sterilise me and send me through the gateway.”
Laurel gritted her teeth. She couldn’t imagine why Klea would lie about this, but Laurel hated hearing that Jamison had voted in support of such a thing – Jamison, who had always supported both her and Tamani, who had welcomed her human friends to Avalon, and had always treated Tamani – a Spring faerie – with dignity and respect.
“Every vote of the Council is unanimous,” Jamison said quietly, turning to Klea. “It is one of the secrets of our power; our united front. Behind closed doors, majority rules. But once it has, our vote is declared unanimous. I stood against Cora and a very young Marion for hours.”
But Klea was shaking her head, making her way slowly towards him. “I don’t believe you.”
“That you do not believe does not change the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Klea said, producing another knife from her seemingly endless supply and pointing it accusingly at Jamison. “Vote or not, you stood by and let it happen.”
“And I regret that every day of my life,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Yuki’s eyes widened and time seemed to freeze as Jamison and Klea stared at each other, now almost close enough to touch. Laurel held her breath, watching them, waiting for . . . she didn’t even know what. Beside her, David lowered Excalibur. Even Klea’s strange underlings seemed transfixed by the scene.
“It’s too late for that,” Klea said at last, and she raised a hand to strike. As Tamani moved to tackle her, Laurel felt the strong hands of one of Klea’s guards lift her off her feet and she shrieked in surprise, the sound drawing Jamison’s attention from Yuki for the briefest of instants.
No! Laurel bit off the scream, but it was too late. The log Jamison had been sitting on bucked and spun, sending him sprawling to the ground. Laurel winced as his head connected with a branch that threw him to the side of the road. He did not rise again.
Tamani spun from Klea and struck the guard holding Laurel square in the face; the black-clad faerie relinquished her easily. But the damage was done – Jamison lay powerless on the grass, his body restrained by a network of roots. Laurel slid to the ground and tore at his bonds with her fingernails, but they only seemed to pull tighter.
“Now, we finish him!” Klea screamed at Yuki, one arm cradled against her chest, her other brandishing her knife.
Yuki raised her hands but Laurel could see them shaking. The young faerie’s chest heaved and her breathing was loud and laboured as she tried to force herself to act. Laurel flung herself protectively over Jamison’s fallen form, though she knew it wouldn’t do much good against Yuki.
Tamani threw himself in front of Klea as Yuki seemed to gather her nerve. “Yuki, don’t do it, please!” Tamani gasped.
Klea leaped at Tamani, full of crazy rage. He caught her knife arm and attempted to throw her to the ground, but she used her momentum to reverse the throw and bring him down instead. The point of her knife plunged straight towards his chest.
“No!” Yuki screamed, and the earth between Klea and Tamani ripped upwards and drove them apart, tossing Tamani on to the ground and raining soil over Laurel and David. “You promised! You said he wouldn’t be harmed. You swore!”
“Shut up, child!” Klea hissed. “There are bigger things at stake than your petty crushes! Kill them all!” she yelled.
At the loud command Klea’s soldiers sprang to action again, their impassive faces taking on life almost as one.
“No!” Yuki yelled again. This time she reached through the air towards the men who were grasping for Tamani. In a flash of green and brown, thick, leafy vines burst from the ground, winding themselves around Klea’s soldiers from their ankles to their necks. “I have done everything you asked me to do and this is the only thing I ever asked for in return and I will have it!”
Laurel watched, stunned, unsure what to make of Yuki’s sudden change of heart, as the young Winter faerie ran to Tamani, who had managed to rise to his knees. She laid her hands on his shoulders.
“Tam, he was right, I—”
“Ungrateful brat!”
David lunged to disarm Klea, but his blade slid off her as she plunged the long, thin knife through the centre of the rumpled white blossom on Yuki’s back.
“Yuki!” Laurel cried, horrified, and tried to rise but David stepped in front of her.
“Stay back,” he whispered.
Tamani lunged at Klea as Yuki collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain. Klea thrust her knife at Tamani’s chest; he sidestepped and caught hold of her broken arm, forcing her toward him with a stifled whimper. Then he spun her round, bringing her knife hand up, and pressing her own weapon against her neck.
“Give up.” His words sliced though the night air.
The road was silent except for
Yuki’s muffled cries. Laurel could hardly breathe.
Klea slumped against Tamani, defeated.
“Drop the knife.”
Klea’s hand twitched, and for a moment Laurel thought she would. But with a wordless yell, Klea drove the knife along the side of her neck, scoring her own skin and putting an inch of the blade through Tamani’s T-shirt and into his wounded shoulder. Tamani released her in surprise and stepped back as Klea staggered away, dropping the knife and pressing a hand against her oozing wound.
A single slender root slithered up from the ground and wrapped around Klea’s ankle, making her fall. Laurel turned to see Yuki’s hand fluttering weakly. She was still alive!
Klea gave a high-pitched, almost mournful laugh from where she lay sprawled in the grass. “Well, now we can all die together.”
“You, perhaps,” Tamani said coldly.
“Look at your cut,” Klea said.
Tamani hesitated, but when Klea’s look sharpened into a glare, he pursed his lips and pulled down the neck of his shirt to expose his shoulder. “Eye of Hecate,” he whispered. The edges of the wound were blackened, with dark tendrils radiating away from the gash.
“Let me see,” Laurel said, rushing to Tamani and reaching out to him.
“Don’t touch him,” Yuki said, her voice soft but commanding. “It’ll spread to you, too.” She was on her hands and knees and black lines streaked out from the centre of her blossom and sap dripped over her petals.
Klea glared at Yuki. “Years of conditioning unravelled by one stupid Ticer.”
Laurel stared in horror at the black tendrils tracing their way around Tamani’s wound. She didn’t know what it was, but it looked incredibly toxic – not unlike the red smoke that Klea had unleashed against the Academy. One more reason to be glad Chelsea was still hidden safely out of reach. Jamison, too, though how safe he was remained uncertain.
“A concoction I’m particularly proud of,” Klea said, seeing Laurel’s dumbfounded expression. “Something of a last resort, but this seemed like a special occasion. You should feel honoured.”
“What is it?” Tamani said, glaring down at Klea.
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