Эприлинн Пайк: Spells

“Handled it?”

“Yes, I handled it. I’m not completely helpless, you know.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I dealt with it; it doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to pull her arm away.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Laurel. I said this isn’t a game. Do you think it’s a game?” Shar demanded, his eyes hard and flashing. “A contest between you and the trolls? Because I suspect that this little ‘problem’ is the same troll who was hunting you last year. The same troll who knows the gate is here on this land. The troll who wouldn’t think twice about murdering you and every faerie in the realm to get into Avalon. Your little problem is threatening our lives, Laurel.”

She pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest, saying nothing.

“I have a daughter, did you know that? A two-year-old little girl, barely more than a seedling. I’d like her to have a father for at least the next hundred years, if you don’t mind. But the chances of that happening are dropping precipitously right now because you have this animal-brained determination that you have to handle things yourself. So I ask you again, Laurel, are you going to tell me what happened?”

His voice hadn’t gotten any louder, but Laurel felt her ears ring as though he’d shouted. It was more than she could handle. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to stop the tears, but it didn’t help; they came anyway. She’d screwed everything up. She’d let down everyone who had any degree of importance to her at all. Even Shar.

Shar’s sharp whisper made Laurel’s head snap up. He’d said something in a language she didn’t understand, but he didn’t seem to be addressing her. She forced back her tears, and her eyes flashed around at the trees surrounding her. But no one appeared and Shar was still focused on her.

Laurel nodded numbly. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll tell you.”

Shar watched Laurel leave the glade and climb into her car after she had finished telling him about Barnes. She’d answered all his questions.

All the ones she knew the answers to, anyway.

Shar waited, standing still against the tree until her car — its yellow signal blinking annoyingly — turned onto the highway.

“You can come out now, Tam,” he said.

Tamani stepped out from behind a tree, his eyes fixed on Laurel’s departing car.

“Thank you for staying put — even though you almost didn’t,” he added wryly.

Tamani just shrugged.

“She wouldn’t have told me as much with you around. She needed to think you were gone. Now she’s really told us everything.”

“She didn’t have much of a choice,” Tamani said, his voice flat. “Not with the way you were interrogating her.” He paused for a few seconds. “You were pretty hard on her, Shar.”

“You’ve seen me be hard on someone, Tam. That wasn’t hard.”

“Yeah, but—”

“She needed to hear it, Tamani,” Shar said sharply. “She may be your duty, but the gate is mine. She needs to know how serious this is.”

Tamani tightened his jaw but didn’t argue.

“I’m sorry I made her cry,” Shar said grudgingly.

“So are we agreed on what needs to be done next?”

Shar nodded.

Tamani smiled.

“It’ll take months, Tamani. This is a huge endeavor you’re undertaking.”

“I know.”

“And she did come here to say good-bye.”

“I know,” he said, his voice soft. He turned now, to look at Shar. “But you’ll watch her? You’ll make sure she’s safe?”

“I promise.” He paused. “I’ll assign more sentries to her house. If Barnes could get the whole crew away from her house last night, then there weren’t enough. I’ll make sure there’s enough next time.”

“Will there be a next time?”

Shar nodded. “I’m sure of it. Barnes was a twig, maybe a branch, but weeds like this grow from the roots. I’m not too proud to admit that I’m afraid of what we’re not seeing.” He glanced at Tamani. “If I weren’t so sure, I wouldn’t let you do this at all.”

They gazed up the path, toward the empty cabin with its overgrown yard and aging exterior.

“You ready for this?” Shar asked.

“Yeah,” Tamani said, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, yeah.”

THE MORE I LEARN ABOUT PUBLISHING, THE LESS credit I think authors deserve. For at least a million reasons, these are my champions: Erica Sussman, Susan Katz, Kate Jackson, Ray Shappell, Cristina Gilbert, Erin Gallagher, Jocelyn Davies, Jennifer Kelaher, Elise Howard, Cecilia de la Campa, Maja Nikolic, Alec Shane, and the countless people at HarperCollins and Writers House who have worked tirelessly to make this series a success.

A special thank-you goes to my personal knights in shining armor, my beyond amazing editor, Tara Weikum; agent extraordinaire Jodi Reamer; and the most patient publicist in the world, Laura Kaplan. You three work so hard for me, and every moment is appreciated.

My friends, my wonderful friends, you all know who you are, and what you’ve done, and I promise not to turn you in for it: David McAfee, Pat Wood, John Zakour, James Dashner, Sarah Cross, Sarah MacLean, Sarah Rees Brennan, Carrie Ryan, Saundra Mitchell, R. J. Anderson, Heidi Kling, Stephenie, and the whole Feast of Awesome. Wow. You are amazing and have very questionable taste in friends, for which I am grateful. Betas Hannah, Emma, and Bethany, I am still going to send you guys stuff! And thank you to authors Claire Davis and William Bernhardt for helping me learn the craft. I’m still trying!

My family and family-in-law: No one has ever had such a supportive family, I am convinced. A huge thank-you to Audrey, Brennan, and Gideon; you are my sunshine, always will be. Last and above all, Kenny, you are there every step. And every misstep. It hasn’t been easy, but you make it look that way.