Эприлинн Пайк: Spells

“If we have to.” Laurel grinned and reached both hands up into his hair, mussing it until it fell into its usually chunky strands. She grabbed his hands, exhilarated to be in friendly, familiar company again. “I’m so glad you came. I thought I’d go crazy if I had to spend another night studying.”

Tamani sobered. “It’s hard work, I’m sure, but it’s important.”

She looked down at her bare feet, speckled with dark soil. “It’s not that important.”

“It is. You have no idea how much we use all the things the Fall faeries make.”

“But I can’t really do anything at all! I haven’t even started classroom work yet.” She sighed and shook her head. “I just don’t know how much I can learn in less than two months.”

“Couldn’t you come back…from time to time?”

“I guess so.” Laurel looked up again. “If I’m invited.”

“Oh, you’ll be… invited .” Tamani grinned as he said it, as though he found the word inherently amusing. “Trust me.”

His eyes met hers, and Laurel felt hypnotized. After a nervous moment she turned away and started walking. “So where are we going?” she asked, trying to cover her awkwardness.

“Going?”

“Jamison said you would take me sightseeing. I only get a few hours.”

Tamani seemed completely unprepared for this conversation. “I’m not sure he meant—”

“I have been doing nothing but memorizing plants for,” Laurel paused, “Six. Straight. Days. I want to see Avalon!”

A mischievous grin lit Tamani’s face and he nodded. “Very well, then. Where would you like to go?”

“I–I wouldn’t have any idea.” Laurel turned to him. “What’s the best place in Avalon?”

He took a breath, then hesitated. After another moment he said, “Do you want to do something with other fae or just the two of us?”

Laurel gazed down the hill. Part of her just wanted to be with Tamani, but she scarcely trusted herself to spend that long alone with him. “Can’t we do some of both?”

Tamani grinned. “Sure. Why don’t we—”

She placed one index finger against his lips. “No, don’t tell me, let’s just go.”

In response, Tamani pointed down the hill and said, “Lead on.”

A little shiver of excitement passed through her as the Academy grew smaller and smaller behind them. They passed the high stone walls that enclosed the gate and soon their path diverged into roads that wound through an occasional building — but these roads weren’t paved. Instead, they were made of the same soft, black, nutrient-rich soil that covered the path from the gateway to the Academy. The soil cooled Laurel’s bare feet and energized her steps. It was ten times better than any other walk she’d ever taken.

The farther they got from the Academy, the more crowded the streets became. They entered some kind of open-air fair with hundreds of faeries congregating in doorways, browsing in facade-fronted shops and milling about kiosks hung with sparkling wares. Everything was rainbow-hued and vivid and it took Laurel a few seconds to realize that the bright, multicolored flashes she saw weaving through the crowds were the blossoms of the Summer faeries. One faerie passed close in front of her, carrying some kind of stringed instrument and sporting a stunning blossom that resembled a tropical flower. It was bright red streaked with a sunshiny yellow and had about ten broad petals that ended in sharp angles like the purpurea Laurel had studied only yesterday. But it was enormous! The lower petals floated just inches above the ground while the top petals arched over her head like an enormous crown.

Good thing I’m not a Summer faerie, Laurel thought, recalling the work she had put into concealing her own seasonal blossom less than a year ago. That thing would never have fit under a shirt .

Everywhere she looked she saw more of the vibrant, tropical-looking blossoms, in seemingly infinite variety. The Summer faeries were dressed differently too. They wore clothes of the same light, shimmery fabric that Laurel and all her classmates wore, only cut longer and more loosely, with ruffles and tassels and other adornments that fluttered in the air or trains that swept the ground behind them. Showy, Laurel decided. Like their blossoms .

She looked back to make sure she hadn’t lost Tamani, but he was still there, two steps behind her left shoulder. “I wish you’d just lead the way,” Laurel said, tired of craning her neck to see him.

“It’s not my place.”

Laurel stopped. “Your place?”

“Please don’t make a scene,” Tamani said softly, prodding her forward again with his fingertips. “It’s just the way it is.”

“Is this a Spring faerie thing?” Laurel said, her voice raised a little.

“Laurel, please,” Tamani implored, his eyes darting from side to side. “We’ll talk about it later.”

She glared at him, but he refused to meet her eyes, so she surrendered for the moment and continued walking. She meandered through the kiosks for some time, delighting in the sparkling wind chimes and silky lengths of fabric displayed by shopkeepers who were, in some cases, dressed even more extravagantly than the crowd.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up a stunning string of sparkling diamonds — probably real ones — intertwined with tiny pearls and delicate glass flowers.

“It’s for your hair,” a tall, crimson-haired faerie offered helpfully. With fingers encased in stark white gloves that seemed far too formal to Laurel, he touched the end where a comb was cleverly hidden behind a cluster of glass blossoms. Naturally, because he was male, he had no blossom, but his clothing suggested that he, too, was a Summer. “May I?”

Laurel looked to Tamani and he smiled and nodded. She turned and the tall faerie fixed the bauble securely in her hair, then led her to a large mirror on the opposite side of the kiosk. Laurel smiled at her reflection. The silvery strand hung just to the side of where she parted her hair, down past her shoulders. It sparkled in the sun, bringing out the shine of the natural highlights in her blond hair. “It’s beautiful,” she said breathlessly.

“Would you like to wear it, or shall I wrap it in a box?”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“You should,” Tamani said quietly. “It looks lovely.”

“But I…” She stepped around the tall shopkeeper and stood close to Tamani. “I have nothing to pay for it, and I’m certainly not going to let you pay for it.”

Tamani laughed quietly. “You don’t pay for goods here, Laurel. That’s a very…human thing. Take it. He’ll be complimented that you like his work.”

Laurel glanced at the shopkeeper hovering just out of earshot. “Really?”

“Yes. Tell him it pleases you and that you’ll wear it to the Academy; that’s all the payment he wants.”

It was all so unbelievable. Laurel felt nervous, momentarily unable to overcome her certainty that, any second now, a security faerie was going to pop out and arrest her. But Tamani wouldn’t pull a trick like that on her…would he?

She took one more look in the mirror, then smiled at the tall faerie, hoping it didn’t look too forced. “It’s really, really beautiful,” she said. “I’d like to wear it back to the Academy, if I may.” The faerie beamed at her and made a slight bow. Laurel hesitantly began to walk away.

No one stopped her.

It was a few minutes before Laurel got over the feeling she’d just stolen something. She started paying attention to the other browsers and many of them also removed items from the displays and kiosks without giving anything in return but compliments and gratitude. After several minutes of observing other “shoppers,” she forced herself to calm down.