Эприлинн Пайк: Wings

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “You were really young. I was a new sentry — I’d been out maybe a week — and I got sloppy and let you see me.”

“I saw you?”

“Yeah, you were about ten in human years. I just put my finger to my lips to quiet you and ducked back behind a tree. You looked for me for a minute or two, but within an hour you seemed to have forgotten it.”

Laurel stood silently for a long time. “I–I remember that. Just barely. That was you?”

Joy glowed out of Tamani’s eyes. “You remember?”

Laurel broke eye contact. “A little,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat. “What about my parents? Did you ever dope them?”

Tamani sighed. “A couple of times. I had to,” he added before Laurel could argue. “It was my job. But only two or three times. By the time I got here, you were more careful. We didn’t have to patch you up once a week. And the times when your parents got too close, I tried to assign someone else.” He shrugged. “I always thought it was a lousy plan to begin with.”

Laurel was silent for a moment. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t be mad. It wouldn’t be like that if you stayed now. You know everything. Your parents even know. We wouldn’t have to do that anymore.”

She shook her head. “I have to stay with my parents. They’re in more danger than ever. I’ve been given the responsibility of protecting them. I can’t turn my back on them now. They’re human — and maybe that seems lesser to you. But I love them and I won’t leave them to be slaughtered by the first troll who comes across their scent. I won’t!”

“Then why are you here?” he asked bitterly.

She paused for a few seconds, trying to control her emotions. “Don’t you know how much I wish I could stay? I love this forest. I love—” She hesitated. “I love being with you. Hearing about Avalon, feeling its magic in the trees. Every time I leave, I wonder why.”

“Then why do you go?” His voice was louder now, demanding. “Stay,” he said, grasping her hands in his. “Stay with me. I’ll take you to Avalon. Avalon , Laurel. You can go there. We can go together.”

“Stop! Tamani, I can’t. I just can’t be part of your world right now.”

“ Your world.”

Laurel nodded weakly. “My world,” she relented. “My family is depending on me for too much. I have to live my human life.”

“With David,” Tamani said.

Laurel shook her head, frustrated. “Yes, if you must know. David is very important to me. But I told you, this is not about choosing between you and David. I’m not trying to decide who’s my one true love. It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not for you.”

His voice was quiet — barely audible — but the intensity hit her like a tangible blow.

“What does it take, Laurel? I’ve done everything I can think of. I got shot to protect you. Tell me what else to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if you’ll just stay.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes — deep pools of an emotion she’d never been able to identify. Her mouth went dry as she tried to find her voice. “Why do you love me so much, Tamani?” It was a question she’d been longing to ask for weeks. “You scarcely even know me.”

Above their heads the sky rumbled. “What if — what if that wasn’t true?”

They were on the edge of a cliff, she could feel it. And she wasn’t sure she had the strength to jump. “How could it not be true?” she whispered.

Those fiery eyes still burned into hers. “What if I told you our lives were entwined long ago?” He slipped his fingers through hers, holding up their joined fists.

Laurel stared at their hands. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you that you were seven when you came to live with the humans. But in the faerie world, you were mentally much older, remember? You had a life, Laurel. You had friends.” He paused, and Laurel could see he was trying to maintain control over his emotions. “You had me.” Tamani’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I knew you, Laurel, and you knew me. We were just friends, but we were such good friends. I…I asked you not to go, but you told me it was your duty. I learned about duty and responsibility from you .” He looked down and lifted her hands to his chest. “You said you’d try to remember me, but they made you forget. I thought I would die the first time you looked at me and didn’t recognize me.”

Laurel’s eyes filled with tears.

“I lied — about the ring I mean,” Tamani said, his voice soft and serious. “I didn’t just give you a random ring. It was yours. You gave it to me to keep until the time came to return it to you. You thought — you hoped — it might help you remember your life before you came here.” He shrugged. “Obviously it didn’t work, but I promised you I’d try.”

Cold rain dripped down Laurel’s arms as she stood silently.

“I never gave up on you, Laurel. I swore I would find a way back into your life. I became a sentry as early as they would allow and called in every favor I could to get assigned to this gate. Jamison helped me. I owe him more than I could ever repay.” He lifted her hands up to his face and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles. “I’ve watched you for years. Watched you grow from a little girl to a full-grown faerie. We were best friends when we were little, and I’ve been with you almost every day for the last five years. Is it so unreasonable for me to have fallen in love with you?”

He laughed very quietly. “You used to come out here and sit by the stream and play your guitar and sing. I would sit up in a tree and just listen to you. It was my favorite thing to do. You sing so beautifully.”

His bangs were soft, damp tendrils now, hanging down across his forehead. Laurel let her eyes travel the length of him: his soft black breeches tied at the knees, the fitted green shirt hugging his chest, and the symmetrical face that was more perfect than any human boy could ever wish for. “You waited for me this long?” she asked in a whisper.

Tamani nodded. “And I’ll wait longer. Someday you’ll come to Avalon, and when that time comes, I’ll show you what I have to offer you in my world, our world. You’ll choose me. You’ll come home with me.” He held her face in his hands.

Tears stung Laurel’s eyes. “You don’t know that, Tamani.”

He licked his lips nervously for just a second before a forced smile cut across his face. “No,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t.” His hands on her face, stone-cold a second ago, now seemed to warm with the heat in his eyes as his thumbs traced her cheekbones. “But I have to believe; I have to hope.”

Laurel wanted to tell him to be realistic — not to hope for what might never happen. But she couldn’t force the words out of her throat. Even in her mind they sounded false.

“And I’ll wait, Laurel. I’ll wait as long as I have to. I have never given up on you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “And I never will.”

He pulled her close and held her, and neither spoke. For a perfect moment, no one else in the world existed outside of this tiny space on a wooded path. “Come on,” Tamani said, squeezing her one more time. “Your mother will be worried.”

They walked hand in hand, farther down the curvy path until Laurel began to recognize where she was. “I’ll leave you here,” he said, about a hundred feet from the tree line.

Laurel nodded. “It’s not forever,” she promised.

“I know.”

She lifted the thin silver chain holding the seedling ring and studied it — its significance far more compelling now. “I’ll think of you, just like I promised.”