Читать книгу Destined - Aprilynne Pike - Страница 11

Tamani gritted his teeth as he gingerly pulled the new – and rather too big – shirt over the binding strips Laurel had spent the last ten minutes applying. David had arrived and Laurel was sitting with him on the couch, filling him in on the morning attack. Tamani blocked out her voice; he was already replaying the events in his mind, looking for some way he could have been more prepared, more effective.

Especially against Klea.

He hadn’t lost a round of hand-to-hand combat to anyone but Shar in years. To lose to a human-trained Mixer hurt almost as badly as the wounds she had left on him – and those stung plenty.

Laurel’s parents had offered to stay home from work, but Tamani insisted it was better for everyone if they went to their stores and pretended it was a regular day. Before Laurel could even suggest it, Tamani had ordered half a dozen sentries to tail each parent, just in case. The grateful look in her eyes had been a welcome bonus.

“So what now?”

Tamani looked over and realised David was talking to him.

“We’re waiting to hear from Shar,” Tamani grumbled. “Silve took a whole company of sentries back to the apartment to help with the trolls. They should sound the all-clear any time.”

“And . . .” David hesitated. “If they don’t?”

That was what Tamani had been fretting about for an hour. “I don’t know.” What he wanted to say was that he’d take Laurel somewhere no one could find her – not even David – and stay there until he knew she was safe. Last resort for any Fear-gleidhidh. But Laurel had already decided she wasn’t going to run and Tamani probably shouldn’t warn her that they might be running whether she liked it or not.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said David.

“Yeah, well, neither do I,” Tamani said, frustration heavy in his voice. “We’re not exactly safe here, either, it’s just safer than anywhere else at the moment.” But for how long? He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at David. “Would you like to leave?”

David just gave him a dark look.

Tamani’s phone began vibrating in his hand. He looked down at the screen to see a blue box heralding the arrival of a text message.

From . . . Shar?

klea took yuki and ran. i followed.

Then the phone buzzed again – a picture this time. He’d been expecting to hear from Shar – perhaps hoping was a better word – but even though he’d been clinging to his phone since they’d arrived at Laurel’s house, the person he’d assumed would call was Aaron. Maybe Silve. Shar had never managed to use the phone before; generally he refused to even try. Tamani slid a finger across the screen once, twice, three times before it recognised his touch and unlocked. He squinted at the minuscule picture for a second before tapping it to make it bigger.

Not that it helped.

He was looking at a log cabin with a white, tentlike structure sprawling out the back. There were two slightly grainy figures near the front door.

“What is it?” Laurel asked.

He beckoned her forwards. “It’s from Shar.”

“Shar?” The disbelief in Laurel’s voice was as heavy as it was in Tamani’s mind. “He texted you?”

Tamani nodded, studying the picture. “He said Klea got away with Yuki. He followed them here.” He slid his fingers over the screen, zooming in on the two figures, wanting to be sure before voicing his suspicions. “Those two guards,” he said slowly, “I don’t think they’re human.”

“Trolls?” David asked, still sitting on the couch.

“Fae,” Tamani said, not looking up from the screen. “They don’t seem to be trying to hide it either. This must be . . . I don’t know. Klea’s headquarters?”

“Should you call him?” Laurel suggested, but Tamani was already shaking his head.

“No way. If that’s where he is, I can’t risk giving him away.”

“Can’t your phone, like, find his with GPS or something?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know that it matters. There’s no text with this picture and for now I have to assume that means I should do nothing.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets – one still clenched around his phone – and began pacing again.

The phone buzzed almost immediately. Another picture.

“What are they?” Laurel asked, squeezing in beside him to squint at the tall, green stalks.

Tamani’s stomach twisted with a sick churning. It had taken the Gardener’s son in him less than a second to recognise the distinct plant specimen. “They’re sprouts,” he said hoarsely.

“Sprou – Oh!” Laurel said, sucking in a breath.

“The plants faeries are born out of?” David asked, rising from the couch to look over Tamani’s shoulder.

Tamani nodded numbly.

“But there are dozens of them!” Laurel said. Then, after a pause, “Why are so many of them chopped down?”

But Tamani could only shake his head as he glared at the picture, trying to understand Shar’s message. Everything about this was wrong. He was no Gardener, but the condition of the growing sprouts was appalling even to the untrained eye. The plants were too close together, and most of the stalks were too short in comparison to the size of the bulb. They were malnourished at best and probably permanently damaged.

But it was the cut-off stalks that bothered him the most. The only reason to cut a stalk was to harvest it early. Tamani’s mom had done so once in her career, to save a dying baby fae, but Tamani couldn’t imagine Klea’s motives were so maternal. And he had no idea why she would do it to so many. She had to be using them. And not for companionship.

His gruesome speculation was cut off by another picture, this one of a metal rack filled with green vials. There was no spark of recognition this time and Tamani tilted the screen toward Laurel. “Do you recognise this serum?”

Laurel shook her head. “About half of all serums are green. It could be anything.”

“Maybe it—” His question was cut off by the phone buzzing again. Not a text this time; a call. Tamani sucked in a breath and held the phone up to his ear. “Shar?” he said, wondering if he sounded as desperate as he felt.

Laurel looked up at him, worry, concern, and hope twining together in her gaze.

“Shar?” he said, more quietly now.

“Tam, I need your help,” Shar whispered. “I need you to . . .” His voice trailed off, and shuffling noises were loud against Tamani’s ear as it sounded like Shar set the phone down.

“Don’t move, or this whole shelf goes over.” Shar’s voice came through clearly, but with a slight echo. Speakerphone, Tamani realised. He felt a laugh bubble up in his throat and had to bite his lip firmly to tamp it down. Shar had figured out his phone enough to use it when it counted.

Klea’s voice – more hollow, but crisp enough to understand – came through next. “Honestly, Captain, is this really necessary? You’ve already blown my schedule all to hell by knocking out poor Yuki.”

Knocked out a Winter? Tamani thought, both proud and incredulous. Wonder how he pulled that off.

“I saw you burn,” Shar said, his voice simmering. “The blaze was so hot, no one could get near it for three days.”

“Who doesn’t love a good fire?” she said, her tone mocking.

“I made them test the ashes. Academy confirmed an Autumn faerie died in that fire.”

“How diligent of you! But that’s why I left my blossom behind. I don’t think it would have fooled them if it hadn’t been fresh.”

Laurel laid a hand on Tamani’s arm. “Is it—”

Tamani shushed her gently and pulled the phone away from his face, hitting his own speakerphone button, then muting the microphone just in case.

“Where did you find Yuki?” Shar’s voice said clearly.

“Find? Oh, Captain, all it takes is a single seed, if you know what you’re doing. Work was slow when I had to rely on cuttings, but in the past few decades humans have made remarkable strides in cloning. I quickly discovered that every sprout has its own destiny, no matter its lineage. So it was only a matter of time before I got a Winter.”

“Where did you get the seed, then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you,” Klea said, “but it’s just too good to keep to myself. I stole it from the Unseelie.”

“You’re Unseelie, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Don’t lump me in with those wild-eyed zealots,” she snapped. “I never did find out where the Unseelie got the seed, not that it matters. One of them even saw me take it as I made my escape. Oh, she was so angry,” Klea said in a low whisper. “But then, I think you’re familiar with her, Shar de Misha.”

Tamani closed his eyes, knowing how his friend must be feeling to discover the secret his mother had kept from him – the secret that might have saved so many lives. There was a long pause before Shar responded. “You have a pretty big stack of these vials here. The least you can do is tell me what I’m about to die for. You owe me that.”

“The only thing you’re owed is a bullet in the head.”

“So I should dump these, then,” Shar said. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

As Shar baited Klea, his voice seemed to blare, filling the room with his careful prompts. Tamani could feel Laurel trying to catch his eye but now was not the time for one of their silent conversations. He forced himself to focus on the phone resting on the palm of his hand and did his best to breathe evenly.

Klea hesitated. “Fine. Don’t think it will spare you. They took me a long time to make and I’d prefer not to waste them, but this is only the final batch. Most of it has already been used.”

“Is this how you make the trolls immune to our poisons?”

“In Avalon, you treat the ill. Here, humans have learned to prevent illnesses before they happen. This is basically the same thing. An inoculation of sorts. So yes, it makes them immune.”

“Immune to faerie magic, you mean. Autumn magic.”

Tamani hadn’t heard the word inoculation before, but its meaning was sickeningly clear. Klea was making an entire horde of trolls immune to Autumn magic. All their troubles over the last few years – the dart that hadn’t worked on Barnes two years ago; Laurel’s serum that had knocked out four trolls in the lighthouse, but not Barnes; the caesafum globe that had no effect on the trolls after the Autumn Hop only a few short months ago; the tracking serums that stopped working. It was all Klea’s doing.

“That upper troll,” Shar said, catching on as quickly as Tamani had.

“Oh, yes. You remember Barnes. He was my guinea pig, way back when. That didn’t pan out so well and he decided to turn on me. But I find it terribly soothing to have a contingency plan or two in place. Don’t you?”

A forced laugh from Shar. “I could do with one of those about now myself.”

“Well said!” Klea chirruped in a tone that made Tamani want to smash the phone. “But we both know you haven’t got one. You’re either stalling because you’re afraid to die – which is dreadfully unbecoming – or you think you’re going to miraculously get this information back to Avalon before I invade, which isn’t going to happen. So if you’d be so kind as to step out here where I can kill you—”

“What do you think you’re going to do?” Shar interrupted, and Tamani forced himself to focus on Shar’s words instead of the terrifying images running through his head of what was about to happen to his best friend. “Torture Laurel until she tells you where the gate is? She won’t. She’s stronger than you think.”

“What the hell do I need Laurel for? I know where the gate is. Yuki plucked that tidbit out of Laurel’s head almost a week ago.”

Startled, Laurel looked up, her eyes pools of shock, but comprehension dawned on her face as Tamani made his own connections. Those headaches. The terrible one after the troll attack – when her mind would have been vulnerable and possibly turned to Avalon. Yuki’s phone call from Klea, the glittering look in her eyes – that must have been Klea’s plan the whole time, her motivation for sending trolls after them that night. And in addition to the smaller ones, Laurel had mentioned another massive headache in front of her locker, the last day of school – had even voiced concerns that Yuki might be the cause. But Tamani had dismissed it because they were about to capture her anyway. No wonder Klea had been so furious when Yuki insisted on staying for the dance – she’d completed her mission. She really had stayed out of misguided affection for Tamani.

Tamani closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply, evenly. Now was not the time to lose control.

“Then I just have one last request.” Tamani’s eyes flew open. There was something in Shar’s voice he didn’t like. An edge.

“Tell Ari and Len I love them,” Shar said, coming through with increased clarity despite the quaver in his voice. “More than anything.”

Icy fear filled Tamani’s chest. “No.” The barely audible plea slipped through Tamani’s lips.

“That’s very sweet, but I’m not running a messaging service, Shar.”

“I know, it’s just . . . ironic.”

“Ironic? I don’t see how.”

An incredible clattering sounded in the background, like a hundred crystal goblets shattering against the floor, and Laurel clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Let’s ask Tamani,” Shar said, and Tamani’s head jerked up at the sound of his own name. “He’s the language expert. Tamani, isn’t this what humans call irony? Because I never expected my last minutes in life would be spent figuring out how to use this damned phone.”

“No!” Tamani yelled. “Shar!” He gripped the phone, helpless. The unmistakable blast of gunfire filled his ears and his stomach lurched as he slumped to his knees. Four shots. Five. Seven. Nine. Then silence as the phone went dead.

“Tam?” Laurel’s voice was barely a whisper, her hands reaching for him.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but kneel silently, his hand wrapped around his phone, his eyes begging the screen to light again, for Shar’s name to pop back up on the display, for his biting laugh to sound through the speakers as he tried to convince Tamani that the joke had actually been funny.

But he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Despite his shaking hands, Tamani managed to slide the phone back into his pocket as he stood. “It’s time,” he said, surprised at how steady his voice sounded. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Laurel said. She looked as shaky as Tamani felt. “Go where?”

Yes, where? When they were hunting trolls, Shar had lectured him about sticking to his role as Laurel’s Fear-gleidhidh. Should he take Laurel and run away? His head spun as he tried to decide what was right. But the sound of the gunshots – the mental picture of bullets ripping into Shar – it was blocking out everything else.

Tell Ari and Len I love them.

Ariana and Lenore were in Avalon. Those weren’t simply tender last words; they were instructions.

Tamani had received his final orders from Shar.

“To the gate,” he said. “To Jamison. Shar didn’t have to tell Klea we were on the phone, but he did. You heard Klea – she was done with us. Shar made us a target again, to divide her attention and throw her off balance. He bought us the time we need to warn Avalon, so that’s what we do.” The pieces were coming together in his mind. “Now!” he added, already pulling his keys out of his pocket.

He headed for the front door, but David stepped in front of him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” David said, putting up his hands. “Let’s wait for just a second here.”

“Move,” Tamani said darkly.

“Avalon? Now? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No one asked you.” Of course he would pick now to fight over this.

David’s eyes softened, but Tamani refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t want pity from a human. “Listen, man,” David said, “you just heard your best friend get mowed down. I barely knew him and I’m feeling pretty sick right now. Don’t make any rash decisions so soon after . . . after what just happened.”

“What just happened? You mean Shar getting murdered?” The words were salt on his tongue and he tried not to let David know how much it ripped him apart to even say them. “Do you have any idea how many of my friends I’ve watched die?” Tamani demanded, even as he pushed the memories away. “This is hardly a first. And you know what I did? Every single time?”

David shook his head, a convulsive shiver.

“I picked up my weapon – hell, sometimes I picked up their weapons – and I kept doing my job until it was done. It’s what I do. Now I’m going to say it one more time: get out of my way!”

David stepped hesitantly back, but stayed close by his side, wedging a foot in front of the door as Tamani reached it. “Then let me come with you,” he said. “I’ll drive. You can sit in the backseat and think for a while. Decide if this is really the right choice. And if you change your mind . . .” He spread his arms in a shrug.

“Oh, so now you’re the hero? Now that Laurel’s here to see you?” Tamani said, feeling the grip he had on his temper begin to slip. “Last night you left. You ran away instead of doing what needed to be done with Yuki. I’ve been doing what needs to be done for eight years, David. And I haven’t failed or run away yet. If there’s one person who can keep Laurel safe, it’s me – not you!”

When had he started yelling?

“What’s going on?” A groggy voice made them all turn to the stairs, where Chelsea stood, her T-shirt wrinkled, the wild curls around her face a halo of darkness.

“Chelsea.” Laurel pushed between David and Tamani, her arms steady and strong, forcing them both to take a step back. “It’s Shar. Klea . . . Klea got him. We have to go to Avalon. Right now.”

Tamani couldn’t help but feel a sliver of pride that Laurel had sided with him.

“You can go back to sleep, or home, or whatever you want. I’ll call you the minute we get back.”

“No,” Chelsea said, the weariness in her voice gone. “If David’s going, I’m going too.”

“David is not going!” Tamani insisted.

“I just . . . I don’t want you guys to get hurt,” Laurel said, and Tamani could hear the strain in her voice.

“Come on,” Chelsea pleaded softly. “We’ve been through everything with you. We do it together. That’s been our motto for months.”

The last thing Tamani wanted was more passengers, and time wasn’t a luxury they had. He opened his mouth to declare exactly who was and was not coming, but the expression on Laurel’s face stopped him. She had her car keys in her hand and was giving them a strange look.

“Tamani, my car is back at your apartment. And so is yours.”

Tamani felt the fight drain from him like rain off maple leaves, leaving only the jagged sharpness of grief.

David had the good sense to not smile.

“Fine!” Tamani said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But they won’t let you through the gate, and in a couple hours, tops, those woods will be crawling with trolls and faeries and I won’t be there to protect you.” He gave Chelsea a look that begged her to stay. Stay where it was safe.

Safer.

Where at least there were sentries to watch over her. But as he met her determined gaze, he knew she wouldn’t.

“I guess that’s a chance we’re going to have to take,” she said calmly.

“My car’s in the driveway,” David offered, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

Tamani lowered his chin. With the exception of Laurel, and possibly his mother, he didn’t think there was anyone in the whole world he loved as much as Shar. Even having Laurel here, looking up at him with empathy, couldn’t lighten the weight he felt pressing down on him. She moved closer, but he turned his face away; if he looked into her beautiful eyes one second longer, he was going to crack and lose it entirely. Instead he stood stoically and nodded, blinking a couple times.

“OK. We have to move, though. Now.”