any other faerie’s imaginary friend.”
“That’s amazing.”
Tamani rolled his eyes. “Amazing, nothing. You should see the heroic rescuers she conjures up to save her from the monster under the bed.” He paused. “Which is also her creation.”
“Where are her parents?”
“They’re up in Summer this afternoon,” Rhoslyn said. “Rowen is almost of the age to begin training, and they’re making arrangements with her director.”
“So young?”
“She’s almost three,” Tamani replied.
“Really?” Laurel said, studying the girl as she played on the floor. “She looks so much younger,” she said quietly. She paused. “And acts much older. I was going to ask you about that.”
Rowen stared up at Laurel. “I’m just like all the other fae my age. Aren’t I?” She directed her question to Tamani.
“You’re perfect, Rowen.” He scooped her on to his lap, and the pink-and-purple thing settled on to the top of his head.
Laurel forced herself to look away, although she did wonder if it was rude to stare, if the thing you were staring at wasn’t really there. “Let me tell you something about Laurel,” Tamani said to Rowen. “She’s very special. She lives in the human world.”
“Just like you,” Rowen said matter-of-factly.
“Not exactly like me,” Tamani said, laughing. “Laurel lives with the humans.”
Rowen’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, she didn’t even know she was a faerie until last year, when she blossomed.”
“What did you think you were?” Rowen asked.
“I thought I was human, like my parents.”
“That’s silly,” Rowen said dismissively. “How could a faerie be a human? Humans are strange. And scary,” she added after a short pause. Then she whispered conspiratorially, “They’re animals.”
“They’re not so scary, Rowen,” Tamani said. “And they look just like us. If you didn’t know anything about faeries, you might think you were a human too.”
“Oh, I could never be a human,” Rowen responded soberly.
“Well, you’ll never have to be,” Tamani said. “You’re going to be the most beautiful Summer faerie in Avalon.”
Rowen smiled and lowered her eyelids demurely and Laurel had no doubt Tamani was right. With her soft, curly brown hair and long lashes, she was as pretty as any baby Laurel had ever seen. Then she opened her rosebud mouth wide into a yawn.
“Nap time, Rowen,” Rhoslyn said.
Rowen’s face fell and she started to pout. “But I want to play with Laurel.”
“Laurel will be back another time,” Rhoslyn said, her eyes darting to Laurel’s as if to test the validity of that promise. Laurel nodded quickly, not certain if it was the truth. “You can sleep in Tam’s bed,” Rhoslyn added when Rowen still hung back. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said to Tamani, who shook his head.
The little faerie’s face brightened considerably and Rhoslyn herded her down the narrow hall, leaving Tamani and Laurel alone.
“Is she really only three?” Laurel asked.
“Aye. And very normal for a faerie her age,” Tamani said, lounging in the broad armchair. It was fascinating for Laurel to watch him. She had never seen him quite so at ease.
“You told me that faeries age differently, but I…” Her voice trailed off.
“You didn’t believe me?” Tamani said with a grin.
“I believed you. Just, seeing it is something else.” She looked over at him. “Are faeries ever babies?”
“Not in the sense that you mean.”
“And I was older than Rowen when I went to live with my parents?”
Tamani nodded, a small smile flirting with the corners of his mouth. “You were seven. Just barely.”
“And you and I – we went to school together?”
He chuckled. “What good would Fall faerie classes have done me?”
“So how did I know you?”
“I spent a lot of time at the Academy with my mother.”
As if sensing she was being spoken of, Rhoslyn walked back into the room with cups of warm heliconia nectar. Laurel had tasted it once at the Academy, where she was informed that the sweet beverage was a favourite in Avalon and often hard to come by. She felt complimented to be served it now.
“What is a Gardener?” Laurel asked, addressing Rhoslyn now. “Tamani said it was like a midwife.”
Rhoslyn clicked her tongue disparagingly. “Tamani and his human words. Can’t say I know what a midwife is, but a Gardener is a Tender who nurtures germinating sprouts.”
“Oh.” But Laurel was still confused. “Don’t the parents take care of them themselves?”
Rhoslyn shook her head. “Not enough time. Sprouts need constant and very specialised tending. We all have daily tasks to do, and if every mother took off a year or longer to tend her sprout, too many jobs would go undone. Besides, a couple might decide to make a seed just to get out of a year of work, and new life is far too important to be undertaken for so frivolous a reason.”
Laurel wondered what Rhoslyn would have to say about the many frivolous reasons humans found for having babies, but she remained silent.
“Sprouts are nurtured in a special garden at the Academy,” Rhoslyn continued, “like all the other important plants and flowers. Spring and Summer seedlings learn to work by watching others, often their own parents, so Tamani spent a lot of time at the Academy with me.”
“And I was there?”
“Of course. From the time your sprout opened, just like all the other Fall faeries.”
Laurel looked up at Tamani and he nodded. “From the very first day. Like I said. They don’t know you.”
Laurel nodded forlornly.
“Laurel’s having a little difficulty with her lack of fae parents,” Tamani explained quietly.
“Oh, don’t fret,” Rhoslyn chided. “The separation is an important part of your upbringing. Parents would just get in the way.”
“What? How?” Laurel asked, a little disturbed by the casual tone that Rhoslyn – a mother herself – was using to dismiss Laurel’s unknown parents.
“Chances
