Aprilynne Pike - Illusions

“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 my 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.

“But why? They can’t teach anything at college that would be useful to you.”

“No,” Laurel countered, “they can’t teach me anything in college that you think would be useful to you . I’m not you, Tamani.”

“But really? More school? That’s what you want to do?”

“Maybe.”

“Because I gotta tell you, sitting through all my classes is by far the worst part of my day. I don’t know how you could want more of that. I hate it.”

“That’s basically what I do in Avalon, too. No matter where I go, there’s school.”

“But in Avalon you’d be learning stuff that’s useful. Square root of a cosine? How is that ever going to be useful?”

Laurel laughed. “I’m sure it’s useful for someone .” She paused. “But I won’t be majoring in math or anything. Besides, I think anything you learn can help you.”

“Yeah, but…” He closed his mouth suddenly and Laurel was glad he wasn’t going to drag her back into that circular argument. “I just don’t understand. This human obsession with schooling, it doesn’t interest me. I mean, humans interest me. You interest me. Even your”—he hesitated—“ family interests me. Strange though they are,” he added with a smile.

“So,” she said, “Thanksgiving? Will you come?”

He smiled. “Will you be there?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s my answer too.”

“Good,” Laurel said, looking studiously away. “It’ll give me a chance to show you what I’ve found out about the powder,” she added in a whisper.

“You found something out?” Tamani replied, touching the back of her hand.

“Not a lot,” Laurel said, trying not to feel the calm pressure of his fingertips. “But a few things. Hopefully I’ll know more by Thursday. I work on it every night after homework.”

“I never doubted you for a second,” he said, smiling softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

THANKSGIVING HAD ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF LAUREL’S favorite holidays. She wasn’t entirely sure why — she couldn’t eat turkey, mashed potatoes, or pumpkin pie, at least not the traditional varieties. But there was something about the festivities and the gathering of family that she had always enjoyed. Even when “family” only included the three of them.

This year, her mom was making two Cornish game hens instead of a turkey. “I don’t see why I should bother, considering only half of the people here will even be eating it,” she’d joked. It seemed like a good idea to Laurel, though, and the rosemary rub was creating a mouthwatering smell in the kitchen. If you could get past the smell of cooking meat mingled in.