what kind.”
“Aren’t most of you Spring faeries?” asked David.
“Sure,” Tamani agreed. “And a strong Ticer surrounded by humans is as good as an army.”
David blanched, but Laurel shook her head. “Klea said Yuki didn’t have any powers.”
“Klea could be lying. Or Yuki could be hiding her abilities from Klea.” He paused, grinning a little. “In fact, Yuki could be the one lying to Klea. Wouldn’t that be something.”
“So what’s the worst-case scenario?” David asked. “She entices me or Chelsea into spilling your secrets?”
“Or she’s a Sparkler and she’s in here right now, invisible, listening to this conversation,” Tamani said.
“Summer faeries can do that?” Laurel asked.
“Some of them,” Tamani said. “Not that she’s likely to figure that out without training. But until today, I would have told you that I knew the location of every faerie outside of Avalon, so I guess anything is possible. For all we know, Yuki could be a Winter,” he closed his eyes, shaking his head a little. The thought made Laurel’s stomach clench. “Or a Fall.” He hesitated again, then spoke in a rush, as though afraid someone would stop him before he’d had his say. “She could even be the Mixer who poisoned your father.”
Laurel felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She managed to choke out a strangled, “What?”
“I— I—” Tamani stammered. “Look, the point is, she could be harmless, but she could be very, very dangerous. So we need to act quickly,” Tamani said, avoiding the question.
But Laurel wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “You mean two years ago – when he got sick? You said it was trolls.”
Tamani sighed. “It could have been the trolls. But in centuries of dealing with the trolls, we’ve never seen them use poison like that. They’re brutal and manipulative. . . but they’re not Mixers. So when your father got sick—”
“You think a Fall faerie did that?” Laurel asked blankly. Suddenly it made horrible sense.
“Yes. No. We thought maybe—”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Laurel felt her anger rising. What else had Tamani been holding back? He was supposed to teach her about the faerie realm, not keep her in the dark! “I’ve been to the Academy twice since then! Where basically all of the Fall faeries live! You should have said something!”
“I tried,” Tamani protested, “but Shar stopped me. And he was right to stop me. We investigated. Aside from you, no Mixers have been through the gates without constant supervision in decades. We don’t let fae cross out of Avalon lightly.”
“You let me,” Laurel insisted.
Tamani smiled softly, almost sadly. “You are very, very special.” He cleared his throat and continued. “No one wanted you to go into the Academy suspecting every Mixer you met of trying to kill your father. Especially since it probably wasn’t one of them.”
Laurel contemplated that. She knew several Fall faeries who were experts at animal poisons. Including Mara, who was still nursing an ancient grudge. “But now you think Yuki had something to do with it?” she asked, pushing that thought aside to focus on the threat at hand.
“Maybe. I mean, it doesn’t seem likely. She’s so young. And on top of that, Barnes showed resistance to our potions, so he could have been an unusually gifted troll in other ways too. All I know for sure is, Yuki shouldn’t be here. No wild faerie should be here.”
“Hang on,” David said, leaning forward, placing a hand on Laurel’s leg. “If Yuki poisoned your dad, then Yuki had to be working for Barnes – but if Yuki was working for Barnes, why is she with Klea now? Klea killed Barnes.”
“Maybe she was Barnes’s prisoner and Klea rescued her,” Laurel said.
“Then why not tell you that?” David asked. “Why lie about Yuki being an orphan?”
“And we’re back to Klea lying again,” Tamani said wryly.
After a long silence, Laurel shook her head. “It doesn’t add up. We don’t know anything. All we have is what Klea told me.” She hesitated. “What I’d really like is to get Yuki’s side of the story.”
“Impossible,” Tamani said instantly.
Laurel glared, annoyed at his dismissal. “Why?”
Tamani saw the change in her expression and softened his tone. “I think it’s too dangerous,” he said softly.
“Can’t you entice her?” David asked.
“It doesn’t really work on faeries,” Laurel said. But it had worked on her, before she knew what she was – maybe David had a point.
Tamani shook his head. “It’s worse than that. If it doesn’t work at all, it will be because she knows about enticement, and then she’ll know I’m fae. I can’t risk that until we know more.”
“How are we supposed to know more?” Laurel asked, exasperated. The impossibility of the situation was suffocating. “We don’t know who’s lying and who’s telling the truth. Maybe no one’s telling the truth!”
“I think we need to go see Jamison,” Tamani said after a pause.
Laurel found herself nodding. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said slowly.
Tamani pulled something out of his pocket, and began tapping at it.
“Oh my gosh, is that an iPhone?” Laurel asked, her voice unconsciously rising in pitch and volume.
Tamani looked up at her, his expression blank. “Yeah?”
“He has an iPhone,” Laurel said to David. “My faerie sentry who generally lives without running water has an iPhone. That’s. Just. Great. Everyone in the whole world has a cell phone except me. That’s awesome.” Her parents still insisted that cell phones were for adults and college students. So behind the times.
“It’s essential for communication purposes,” Tamani said defensively. “I have to admit, humans are far beyond the fae in terms of communication. With this we can deliver messages instantly. A few buttons and I can talk to Shar! It’s astounding.”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “I’m aware of what they do.” She paused, a pained expression clouding her features. “Shar has one too?”
“Granted,” Tamani said slowly, not answering her question, “it doesn’t work quite as well for us as humans. Our bodies don’t conduct electrical currents the same, so sometimes I have to touch the screen more than once to get it to react. Still, I can hardly complain.”
David offered Laurel an apologetic smile. “You’re always welcome to use mine.”
Tamani growled and muttered an unfamiliar word
