Illusions

by Aprilynne Pike

  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.

  Or better yet, find out that there was nothing to know.

  This, unfortunately, seemed unlikely. It was just too big a coincidence for Yuki to show up at Laurel’s school, especially when the woman who put her there belonged to an organization that hunted non-humans. Except for picking up Yuki after the troll attack, Klea had not shown her face since delivering the wild faerie to Laurel’s doorstep. She could be off hunting, as she claimed, but both times sentries sent to follow her had come back empty-handed, having lost her trail within two or three miles of Laurel’s house. Just like with the trolls—another “coincidence” that put Tamani’s teeth on edge. What was their connection? Klea always wore sunglasses, as though she were sensitive to light, or hiding mismatched eyes, but otherwise she didn’t look like a troll. Still, troll clans had been known to squabble over territory, which would explain her killing Barnes. But Tamani was at a loss to explain how Yuki ended up with a group of human troll hunters, never mind a clan of trolls posing as troll hunters. Laurel’s suggestion that Yuki might not be the only wild faerie definitely had merit, but what could possibly motivate such creatures to ally with the likes of Klea or Barnes?

  There were still too many questions, but whatever the answers, Tamani didn’t see any way for Klea to be anything but a threat. She was hiding. Tamani didn’t know if she was hiding from him or from Laurel, but she was definitely hiding.

  Animals hide when they are guilty—or afraid. Klea didn’t seem the type to cower in fear—so she was guilty. Tamani just needed to figure out what she was guilty of.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like Yuki—over the last few months, as he wormed in close, he’d found her company more than tolerable. She was smarter than she generally let on, and had a quiet confidence he admired. Which made his subterfuge all the more challenging. He was increasingly certain she actually liked him and it made him feel like a villain to be using that against her. If it did turn out that she knew nothing, he was never going to get over the guilt of this moment. But if she was a danger to Laurel in any way, it would be worth it.

  “I thought maybe I could walk you to school this morning. Car’s in the shop,” he tacked on, scrambling for an excuse. In truth the car was parked at the head of the trail he and Shar had taken last night.

  “I thought you ‘knew a guy,’” Yuki said coyly.

  Tamani grinned. “I do, that’s why it will be done by this afternoon.”

  “Sounds good,” Yuki said, snapping her lock shut and dropping the keys into her skirt pocket. “Oh,” she said, stopping, then taking another step forward, then stopping again.

  “What is it?” Tamani asked, bemused. She could be so awkward sometimes.

  “It’s stupid, I . . . I forgot my lunch,” she admitted.

  As a fellow faerie Tamani knew how important midday nourishment could be to making it through school hours. He nearly laughed thinking of the mental war she must have waged between not embarrassing herself and trying to make it through a whole day with no food.

  “Go ahead,” Tamani said brightly, gesturing toward the house. “I’ll wait.”

  “You can come in for a sec,” Yuki said, not meeting his eyes. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  He hesitated. There was something about entering this unknown faerie’s lair that felt like walking into a trap, but the tiny house was practically a training exercise in harmlessness. Not to mention the fact that they were surrounded by sentries. Still.

  Yuki had swung the door wide open and the crisp autumn air wafted pleasantly through the front room. A small television set rested on a coffee table next to a pile of books, and a plush purple couch adorned one wall, but the rest of the room was wall-to-wall greenery. Potted plants lined the floors and windowsills. At least one variety of creeper had found purchase in the drywall and was crawling up around the window, framing it like curtains.

  “Nice . . . plants,” Tamani said lamely, every cell in his body springing to attention. With a good-sized mortar, it could be a Mixer’s armory—or simply the natural inclination of a wild faerie who longed for a flowering homeland she’d never heard of, and seen only in her dreams.

  “I use them for ikebana,” she said, before disappearing into the back of the house.

  She’d mentioned the Japanese art of flower arrangement to him before, though he couldn’t remember the context. He had thought ikebana was more understated, however. This place was practically a jungle. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and hurried to snap a few pictures of the green-laden walls, hoping Laurel could tell him a bit more about the kinds of plants Yuki was growing here. He barely managed to get the phone back in his pocket when she emerged from her room, her backpack in place.

  “Sorry; I’m ready now.”

  He smiled, forcing himself out of thinking mode and into friendly spy mode. “Great!”

  But Yuki didn’t turn to go. He watched her take a few nervous breaths before blurting out, “You’re welcome here anytime.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Tamani said, offering her a crooked grin.

  Yuki looked like she might say something else, but lost her nerve and walked past him onto the porch, waiting for him to pass through the doorway before pulling it shut.

  “I hope it’s okay that I just stopped by,” Tamani said as they set off at a leisurely pace toward school.

  “I’m glad you did,” Yuki said, lowering her eyes.

  The silence was building uncomfortably and Tamani was scrambling for something not-too-stupid to say when Yuki’s phone started ringing. She pulled it out of her pocket and rolled her eyes, pressing the button that would send the call to voice mail.

  “Do you need to take that?” Tamani asked. “I don’t mind.”

  “It’s just Klea; no biggie.”

  “She doesn’t care if you don’t pick up?”

  “I’ll just say I was in the shower. Or riding my bike—it’s actually tough to ride and talk at the same time. As long as I call her back pretty quickly, she doesn’t care.”

  “And you really don’t mind being alone so often?”

  Yuki flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder. “Not at all.” She smiled. “I’m not afraid of the dark.” Tamani cringed inwardly at how obvious it was that she was trying to impress him.

  “And your parents don’t mind?”

  He saw something cross her face. It was wary, then decisive. He leaned closer, trying to look interested instead of eager. “My parents aren’t around anymore,” she said in a rush. “It’s just me and Klea. And mostly, just me. The whole ‘foreign exchange’ thing just . . . eases the transition.” Her eyes kept darting to him, clearly nervous. “I’m sort of here for a fresh start.”

  “A fresh
start is good. My . . . parents aren’t around either. Sometimes I wish everyone didn’t know. They look at you, all pitying, and it just—”

  “I know what you’re saying. Hey, listen,” she said, touching his arm. “Don’t tell anyone? Please?”

  He didn’t push for more. Not today—not on this subject. “Of course I won’t,” he said with a smile. Then he leaned over and laid his hand over hers. “You can trust me.”

  She beamed at him, but there was something wary around her eyes. “So, how was your suspension?”

  Eye of Hecate, now who’s awkward? Tamani shrugged, looking embarrassed. “It was stupid. I’m glad it’s over.”

  “Everyone’s still talking about your fight with David,” Yuki said, her tight laugh completely unconvincing. She hesitated for a moment. “Jun said that he heard you guys were fighting over Laurel or something.”

  “Laurel?” Tamani said, hoping he sounded confused. “Laurel Sewell? Why would it be about her?”

  “I heard she broke you guys up and said something about choosing.”

  “Oh, wow,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “That’s crazy. Laurel is cool; she helps me out in Government. Because I’m totally clueless, right? I think she and David both got the wrong idea. If you know what I mean,” he said in a callous, almost mocking tone.

  “So, you’re not into Laurel?”

  “Not like that,” he said, hating the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like blasphemy. “She’s really nice. But, I don’t know. Not my type. Too . . . blond.”

  “What is your type?” Yuki asked, her eyes shy now.

  Tamani shrugged and smiled a little. “I’ll know it when I see it,” he said, holding her gaze until she looked away, embarrassed but pleased.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “DAD’S HOUSE FOR THANKSGIVING THIS YEAR?” Laurel asked David. They were sitting at a lunch table with Chelsea; their usual spot was a mudhole, thanks to last night’s storm, and Chelsea complained that it was too cold. It was almost too cold even for Laurel, so today they were braving the noise and bustle of the cafeteria.

  “I wish,” David replied. “If that were the case we would order a bunch of Chinese food and sit around and watch football for three days. Or, more accurately, he would watch football and I’d study for finals. No, my grand-parents called a family reunion in Eureka. They’re sure this is the year they’re going to die and they have to see everyone before they go.”

  “Didn’t they pull that one at Christmas last year?” Laurel asked.

  “And the year before. They’re not even that old. They’re, like, five years older than your parents.”

  It was nice, talking to David again. Laurel tried to get both Tamani and David to tell her what happened during their suspension, but Tamani insisted it was guy stuff and wouldn’t discuss it and David was very adept at changing the subject. They seemed to have come to an understanding, a truce, something—Laurel couldn’t guess what—but they no longer glowered at each other in the hallway, and even exchanged friendly greetings on occasion. They’d also stopped pushing her to choose between them, but Laurel doubted that could last.

  “Still, a break’s a break, right?” Laurel said.

  “Psh. A zillion relatives in one house? I won’t get any studying done.”

  “I think you’re missing the point of having a break,” Laurel insisted.

  “Are you kidding? I’m way behind.”

  “Oh, sure, Mr. Four-point-oh.”

  “Four-point-four,” David and Chelsea corrected in unison before looking at each other and laughing. When Laurel raised an eyebrow at him, he said sheepishly, “Honors classes are worth five points, remember?”

  Laurel rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re such a perfectionist.”

  “Yeah, but you love me,” David said. He had the decency to blush and look mortified at having slipped into their old banter.

  But Laurel only smiled and reached up to squeeze his shoulder. “Yeah,” she said genially. “I do.”

  Everyone was silent for a few seconds before Chelsea snorted. “Awkward much?” she asked with a grin.

  Luckily, Tamani chose that moment to plunk himself down across the table from Chelsea, eyeing Ryan, who was standing in line for tacos. “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Where’s Yuki?” Laurel asked, looking around. “Didn’t I see her this morning?”

  “Yeah, she said Klea was picking her up early. Taking a few extra days off around the break.”

  “Still nothing at the cabin?” Laurel asked. David and Chelsea glanced around for eavesdroppers, then brought their heads in close so they could hear what Tamani had to say.

  “Not a sound, not a movement, absolutely nothing. I’m starting to think those trolls just ran through the circle and past the cabin.”

  “Your guys haven’t gone in yet?” Chelsea asked, disbelief shading her voice. “What are they waiting for?”

  Leave it to Chelsea to ask the obvious question, thought Laurel with a smile.

  “Shar thinks it’s more important to figure out what they’re doing. If we bust in, they’ll fight to the death, and we won’t know any more than we already do.”

  “They’re inside a cabin,” David said. “Shouldn’t Laurel’s sleeping potions work?”

  “They should,” Tamani agreed. “But that’s part of the problem. Nothing we’ve thrown at these guys the last few months has worked. Nothing. And that makes us more than a little nervous about storming the place. Who knows what else is lurking in there?”

  “Hey, guys,” Ryan greeted them, sitting down next to Chelsea with his lunch.

  Chelsea gave him a perfunctory smile and patted his shoulder.

  “So, you guys must have been talking about me, huh?” he said with a grin when everyone was silent.

  “Actually, we were talking about faeries,” Chelsea said with exaggerated excitement. When Tamani’s eyes grew wide and he glanced over at Ryan, Chelsea smirked. “I was just asking Tam about them. Since he’s from Ireland—”

  “Scotland, actually—”

  “—he probably knows a ton about faeries and magic and stuff. Way more than we do, anyway.”

  Tamani’s expression was a war between shock and awe. Laurel put a hand to her mouth and did her best not to laugh Sprite right out her nose.

  “You know, Chelsea, just because someone’s from Scotland—” Ryan began.

  “Oh, hush,” chided Chelsea. “Tam was just going to tell us about how faerie enemies can suddenly become immune to magic that has worked on them for centuries.”

  “Er . . . ,” Tamani said. “Actually, I have no idea.”

  “Good answer!” said Ryan, holding up one hand for a high five. When Tamani stared blankly, Ryan dropped his hand back to the table. “Seriously, if you let her suck you into her faerie world you’ll never escape. I swear, sometimes it’s like she thinks faeries are real. You should see her room.”

  That remark earned him an icy glare from Chelsea. “Guess who won’t be seeing my room for a while?”

  “So,” Laurel cut in, eager to change the subject. “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?”

  “Grandparents’ house,” said David.

  “Grandma’s house,” said Chelsea, nodding. “At least she’s local.”

  “Dad’s family is coming up,” said Ryan.

  They all looked at Tamani, and Laurel realized she had put him on the spot.

  Whoops.

  “It’s not really something we celebrate,” Tamani said smoothly. “I’ll probably just lie about.”

  “You want to come to Thanksgiving at my place?” Laurel asked, catching Tamani before he got out the front doors. He’d been avoiding her the last couple of days and she wasn’t really sure why.

  He stiffened. “Really?”

  “Yeah, sure, why not?” Laurel said, trying to make the invitation sound decidedly casual. “We’re not having anybody else over. Yuki’s gone. You’re going to be hanging around in m
y backyard anyway, I assume,” she said, forcing a chuckle.

  But Tamani still looked concerned. “I don’t know. Your parents are going to be there, right?”

  “Yeah, so? They know who you are.” She leaned forward, raising her eyebrows now. “And they know all about the kitchen floor.”

  Tamani groaned. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “No sweat,” Laurel said with a smile.

  He worried his bottom lip for a minute before saying, “It just feels weird. You know, your parents, these humans who raised you. It’s just kind of awkward.”

  “Awkward because they’re my parents, or because they’re human?” Tamani didn’t answer right away and Laurel reached over to poke his arm. “Come on,” she said. “’Fess.”

  “Both. Okay, because they are your human parents. It’s just, you shouldn’t have human parents. You shouldn’t have parents at all.”

  “Well, you better get used to it, because my parents aren’t going anywhere.”

  “No, but . . . you are,” Tamani said hesitantly. “I mean, eventually. Right?”

  “I certainly don’t intend to be one of those forty-year-olds who still live with Mom and Dad, no,” Laurel said, avoiding Tamani’s real question.

  “Sure, but . . . you are coming back to Avalon, aren’t you?”

  It was a little harder to avoid when he asked her straight out. She looked down at her hands for a few seconds. “Why are you asking me this now?”

  Tamani shrugged. “I’ve wanted to ask for a while. It just seems like all this human stuff is getting more and more important to you. I hope you aren’t forgetting where you . . . belong.”

  “I don’t know if that is where I belong,” she said honestly.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” Laurel said firmly. “I haven’t decided.”

  “What else would you do?”

  “I think maybe I want to go to college.” It was strange to say it out loud. She had kind of expected that, without David pushing her to stay in the human world, she would gravitate toward Avalon. But breaking up with David hadn’t made up her mind about college, which had forced her to reconsider the possibility that she might want to go, not just for David or her parents, but for herself.