Aprilynne Pike: Destined

But Laurel wasn’t done yet.

Releasing Tamani, she stood and walked over to Klea. Her face was black and swollen, but her pale green eyes blazed with malice. She had to have heard everything — known her plan had failed for good.

“Viridefaeco,” Klea whispered. Her breathing was ragged and she was still on her back — the same position she’d been in for an hour. Laurel wondered if she could even move anymore. “Well, aren’t you… aren’t you something . Bet you think you’re pretty… smart.”

“I think you’re smart,” Laurel said calmly. It was a strange truth to voice. “Open your mouth,” she said, holding out the second vial.

“No!” Klea snarled, more fervently than Laurel would have thought possible from the dying faerie.

“What do you mean, no?” Laurel asked. “The toxin’s about to kill you.”

Klea rolled her eyes up to Laurel. “I would rather… die… than live in your perfect world .”

Laurel felt her jaw tighten. “This isn’t a contest — take the potion!” When Klea turned her head and pressed her lips shut, Laurel decided to just splash the potion in Klea’s face — it was probably potent enough.

With lightning reflexes, Klea’s hand closed over Laurel’s wrist. Her grip was like iron as she forced herself into a sitting position, and Laurel struggled to tear herself away. Where had Klea found the strength?

“Laurel!” David took one hesitant step toward them, then stopped, giving his magic sword an exasperated frown.

“I will have… this… victory!” Klea said, every word a hiss through clenched teeth. With a mighty shove, she smashed Laurel’s fist against the ground, shattering the sugar-glass vial, spilling the sticky serum into the blackened grass. Contemptuously, Klea shoved Laurel’s captive arm away, collapsing back onto the ground. “Rot…”

Laurel was frozen with shock.

“… in…”

The viridefaeco dripping off Laurel’s hand might be enough. If she could just—

“… hell.”

The expression that froze on Klea’s blackened, swollen face was not one of anger or contempt. It was pure, malignant disgust.

Numbly, Laurel staggered back over to Tamani, dropping to the ground beside him. David joined them, planting Excalibur in the ground and sitting, cross-legged, at Laurel’s other side. Tamani’s eyes fluttered open again, and he lifted one hand to grip David’s. “Thanks for staying with me, mate.”

“Had nowhere else to be,” David said softly, smiling.

Laurel let her head fall on to David’s shoulder and twined her fingers through Tamani’s. There was work ahead of them, recovery, viridefaeco serum to make, friends to mourn, and the Academy to rebuild. But for tonight it was over. Avalon was safe, David was a hero, and Tamani was alive.

And Klea could never hurt her again.

“Laurel?”

Laurel’s eyes fluttered open in the murky predawn light. Her head lay on Tamani’s chest, and David’s arm was draped over her stomach. She wasn’t sure just how much time had passed — snuggled in the cocoon of her friends’ arms, she had let the world swirl around her unheeded, a tiny respite from the horrors of the last twenty-four hours — but with dusk only beginning to herald the sun’s arrival, it couldn’t have been too long.

“Laurel?”

It took her a few moments to focus through the dim morning light to find where the voice was coming from. “Jamison,” she breathed. Raising Tamani’s hand to her face, Laurel met his eyes and brushed her lips against his knuckles before leaving his side to crawl wearily over to Jamison.

Despite David’s careful tending, Laurel was concerned that Jamison had remained unconscious for so long. He was outside of David’s circle and appeared to have been spared from the toxin, but still, Laurel tenderly probed his head where the log had hit him, then gripped his hands, feeling his skin for any sign that the poison had reached his cells.

“I fear I failed you,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment.

“No,” Laurel said, letting herself smile when she couldn’t sense even a trace of the poison. “Everything is fine.” As fine as it can possibly be, at the end of a war .

“Yuki…?”

Laurel hung her head. “I didn’t get back in time,” she whispered, and was unsurprised to see tears glittering in Jamison’s eyes.

“Callista too?”

Laurel nodded silently, the helplessness she’d felt during Klea’s last moments filling her with sadness all over again.

“But Avalon is safe,” he pronounced, not a hint of question in his voice.

Laurel didn’t feel victorious.

“What happened?”

Laurel told the story as quickly as she could, trying not to overwhelm the weary Winter, wishing it had a happier ending.

“I’m proud of you,” Jamison said when she was done, but his voice sounded as defeated as Laurel felt. Yes, the trolls were gone and yes, Klea and her toxin had been stopped, but the cost was almost incomprehensible. Hundreds of Spring and Summer faeries killed — perhaps more than a thousand. And the Autumn faeries? It was painful to even think about. The Academy’s population had been cut down to fewer than a hundred. It would take decades to restore their numbers. So many dead, and for what? For Avalon to return to its broken status quo.

Laurel heard a shout and the clatter of footfalls, and she and Jamison both turned towards the noise.

“I will not wait!” The Queen’s voice sounded clearly above the arguments of her Am Fear-faire as she made her way down the path, Yasmine following more serenely a short distance behind.

Jamison’s hands stiffened beneath Laurel’s at seeing his monarch approach, but a small smile touched his lips when Yasmine caught sight of him and broke into a run.

“Wait!” All eyes turned away from the Queen and her entourage as Chelsea and Fiona burst through the trees in a scatter of leaves.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything,” Fiona said, gasping for breath, her arms cradling a large glass vial.

“Thank goodness!” Chelsea said, stepping round Fiona to sweep Laurel and Jamison into an exuberant embrace. “Doesn’t that Queen listen to anyone?” Chelsea whispered and Jamison chuckled silently. “We saw them coming down the path just as we were finishing up another batch of the potion and we ran as fast as we could.”

“At least the sentries were able to keep her back this long,” Laurel said, one eyebrow raised.

“Wait, Yasmine, please!” Fiona called, trying to stop the young Winter faerie from approaching Jamison.

“It’s OK,” Laurel said. “Jamison’s clean.”

Reluctantly, Fiona let her pass.

Queen Marion stopped at the edge of David’s trench and glowered, her hands crossed over her chest. Laurel ignored her stormy countenance and took Chelsea’s hand, pulling her friend over the shallow trench, leading her to where David knelt, hand clenched around Excalibur, beside Tamani, who had managed to pull himself up to a half recline. His chest was still a smoky grey that looked like extensive bruising, but even that was fading.

“No matter what happens,” Laurel whispered, “we do this together.” She met each of her friends” eyes for several seconds and they all nodded. “And David, don’t you let go of that sword.” She glanced at the Queen. “I’m not sure we’re through fighting the enemy yet,” she finished grimly.

“Come over here, all of you,” Marion commanded.

“Let me neutralise them first,” Fiona said, and Laurel turned to see her duck in front of the Queen, holding the glass vial. She’d attached a spray nozzle to the top. “Just to be safe,” she added, her eyes darting to the shadows that still lingered at Tamani’s chest.