Destined (18 page)

She looked hard at David, hoping he would trust her just once more, and after a moment, he nodded.

“You’d better hurry,” Klea said. “No telling how long it will take the Ticers and Sparklers to find us and come investigate – not to mention tromp around and get infected themselves. I’d say your friends here have an hour at the absolute most. Probably less. And, of course, you’ll want to get back before I expire,” Klea said with a sly grin that made Laurel want to slap her. “I trust you can convince two frightened Benders in less time than that?”

Wordlessly Laurel walked to Klea’s captive minions. They were remarkably docile; none of them protested as she checked their belts, finding a fifteen centimetre-long blade on the third one.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Klea asked.

Laurel looked over, her eyes wide and innocent. “I have to convince a queen,” she said simply. “I’m going to need a knife.”

Before anyone could react, Laurel turned and headed up the long, sharply pitched pathway that led to the Winter Palace.

A
fter Tamani watched Laurel disappear into the trees, he turned his attention to Klea. It was all Tamani could do to not pick up his spear and finish her off, right here and now. But she had backed them into a corner, and seemed to know it. She was lying on her back, one hand tucked behind her head, looking for all the world like an idle stargazer except for the fist she had clenched against her chest. She wasn’t even trying to worm free of the roots that Tamani was pleased to note still held her bound.

David was kneeling next to Jamison, trying to adjust him so he lay more naturally. He’d given Tamani a thumbs-up after checking his breathing, but even the confirmation that the Winter faerie was alive had trouble piercing through the gloom of their hopeless situation.

Tamani kept a sharp eye on Klea, more than a little afraid she would drink the viridefaeco potion the moment their backs were turned. But she seemed content to wait.

If anything, her faerie soldiers were even more docile than their commander. Their faces were slack and their frames hung limply against their bonds. The strange fae had bothered him since he’d first seen them.

Tamani looked over at Klea. “What’s wrong with them?” he asked stiffly.

Klea glanced up and a little smile played at the corners of her mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re perfect.”

“They’re not people,” Tamani said, finally putting his finger on it. “They’re empty shells.”

“Like I said, perfect.”

“You
did
this to them?”

“Genetics, Tamani. It’s a fascinating field.” Then she turned away, clearly ending the conversation.

“It doesn’t matter when Laurel gets back,” David said quietly, back near Tamani now that Jamison was taken care of. David pointed to the ground where Klea’s knife had fallen; the poison that lingered on the blade had blackened the grass, and the blackness was spreading in a deadly sunburst. “If we don’t stop this, I’m not sure that even Klea’s cure will be enough.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Tamani said, letting his gaze fall to the ground. He faced down the urge to rise to his feet and chase after Laurel. Even if Klea hadn’t made him a plague bearer, what could he hope to accomplish? Surely Laurel didn’t intend to help Klea, did she?

No, of course she didn’t. She would do the right thing.

Assuming there was a right thing.

Tamani looked up as David plunged Excalibur into the ground, burying it to the hilt a few metres away. He set to pulling it through the earth like a plough.

“What are you doing?” Tamani asked.

“I’m digging a moat,” David replied.

“A moat?” Tamani asked, lost.

“It won’t stop the poison,” David said, still digging, “but at least it will have to go down through the grass roots before it can spread further. It’ll buy us some time.”

Tamani let himself smile, ever so slightly. “Brilliant.”

David grinned back and returned to his task.

“Tam?”

Yuki’s voice was soft and rasping. She had gotten to her feet with visible effort, but after only a few steps her legs collapsed beneath her. Tamani rolled forwards to catch her, pulling her towards him to break her fall. He was surprised by how much energy it took to lower her gently to the ground, how breathless the simple action made him.

This poison is no joke.
And he had barely been exposed at all; Yuki’s wound was serious – potentially life-threatening by itself.

“Tam, I’m so sorry. For all of this.” A single tear, glistening in the moonlight, slid down her porcelain cheek. She sniffled and looked away timidly, drawing a stuttering breath. “I didn’t know.” She hesitated. “I didn’t understand just how much she . . .”

“Yuki—”

“When I saw the flames at the Academy, I thought . . . I was so afraid—”

“Yuki, please.” He couldn’t bear to relive it, the fear that had gripped him there.

“I just . . . I don’t want to die with you hating me.”

“Shh,” Tamani said, bringing his hand to her cheek, brushing away the tear and leaving a tiny streak of glittering pollen. “I don’t hate you, Yuki. I . . .” He faltered, unsure what to say.

“Do you remember, after the dance? When you brought me to your apartment?”

Tamani wanted to squeeze his eyes shut. When he’d lied to her? Betrayed her as deeply as he ever could? Oh yes, he remembered.

“I was going to confess everything. I was going to join you and fight against Klea. You were right – I was always afraid of her. But that night, you made me feel strong. Like I could do anything. And I was going to. I was going to try.”

“I know,” Tamani said softly. He reached out for her, drawing her in the way he had at the winter dance only the night before. But this time, he meant it. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you.”

“You were just doing your job,” Yuki whispered. “When David put me in that circle, I was so mad . . . I should have just done what I was going to. Cooperated with you. Even after I was in the circle, I could have talked to you. But I didn’t, because I was angry.”

“You had every right,” Tamani said. “I knew you were falling in love with me, and I used that against you. It’s the most terrible thing I’ve ever done.”

“Shh,” Yuki said, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to hear your apologies.” It seemed like her voice was getting softer by the minute, and Tamani wondered if she was trying to conserve her energy or if this was all she had left. “I just want to lie here and pretend that I did everything right the first time. That I trusted you, and came over to your side before all of this happened. I want to imagine that hundreds of faeries didn’t die because I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Klea. That . . . that you and I had a chance.”

Tamani smothered his protests as he smoothed Yuki’s dark, lustrous hair. Even with Yuki in his arms, it was Laurel in his mind. He wondered if he would ever see her again – if they would kiss and caress like they had that day in the cabin. But no – even if he lived until she returned, he would never touch her again.

He hadn’t realised he was humming until Yuki pulled back and spoke. “What’s that?”

“What? Oh, it’s a . . . lullaby. My mother used to sing it to me; it was her favourite.”

“A faerie lullaby?”

“I used to think so,” Tamani said, smiling sadly.

“Sing it for me,” Yuki said, folding herself into his arms.

In the darkness of the night, David, Klea, and her soldiers seemed to fade away as Tamani sang, softly, haltingly, a song of Camelot he’d learned at his mother’s knee. He knew the words by heart, but as he sang them, he felt like he was hearing them for the first time.

“And by the moon the reaper weary,

Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

Listening, whispers, ‘Tis the faerie

Lady of Shalott.’”

He met Yuki’s light green eyes, filled with tears again, her chin quivering against the pain of both the poison and regret. Tamani knew exactly how she felt. He wished the song really would put her to sleep – that her life would drain away while she was dreaming, some place the pain couldn’t touch her. He was no stranger to death, but though he had watched friends die – more often than he cared to remember – he had never held someone as the life drained from their eyes. It frightened him to do so now.

But he wouldn’t abandon her to suffer it alone.

‘But Lancelot mused a little space

He said, ‘She has a lovely face;

Goddess, prithee, lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott.’”

“Alfred, Lord Tennyson,” Klea said when Tamani finished singing, and Tamani’s head shot up as if she had broken a spell. Even David had paused his digging to listen and he cast Klea an ugly look before turning back to his moat. “Bowdlerised by some Sparkler hack, no doubt,” she finished, her voice flat.

If Yuki heard Klea’s acid commentary, she made no sign. Her eyes were closed, fingers relaxed on Tamani’s arm.

“Tam?”

“Yes?”

“Is there any way this will end well?”

“There’s always a chance,” he forced himself to say. But he didn’t see how either he or Yuki would live to see another sunrise. The poison was just too strong.

Yuki smiled wanly, then glanced over at Klea, who had returned to her silent stargazing. Tamani could feel the fear that still filled Yuki at the sight of her mentor. “I don’t want her to win any more. And I can make sure she never does.”

“You can’t kill Klea,” Tamani said, though he was sorely tempted to let Yuki do just that. But he forced himself to trust Laurel, to let her make this decision.

But Yuki was already shaking her head. “Her plan can’t work unless she controls the Winter faeries. When I die she’ll kill the others and everyone will be stuck in here with her. And even if Laurel finds a way . . . You’ll always be dependent on them. It isn’t fair. I – I should have done something . . . before. But maybe this will make up for it.” Her eyes seemed to focus on some distant point, then snapped back into focus as she looked up at Tamani. “Do you have anything . . . metal?”

“Metal?” he asked, confused.

“It has to match,” she said, as if that cleared everything up.

“Um . . . maybe?” Pulling her against him with one hand, he pulled up the cuff of his trousers and drew a small throwing knife from the sheath on his leg. “How’s this?”

Yuki took the knife from his hand. “Perfect.” Her breathing was shallow, rapid; tears were coursing down her cheeks and her voice quivered as she spoke. “This is going to take a lot of power from me. I . . . I don’t know that I’ll last much longer when it’s done.”

“Don’t talk that way,” Tamani whispered.

“No, I know. I can feel it.” Her body shook as she clenched her teeth against her sobs. “Please don’t leave me. Hold me till I’m gone.”

“What are you—”

“
Shokuzai
,” Yuki said, closing her hands over the small blade. “Atonement.” A warm glow began to shine from between her fingers and Tamani glanced at Klea, who was studying them with narrowed eyes. Tamani was pretty sure his body was angled enough to block her view, but he cupped his hand over Yuki’s anyway, completely shutting out the strange light.

Yuki inhaled sharply and Tamani pressed his forehead to her temple as her brows knit and she pressed her hands together even tighter. Tamani felt like he was in the upper rooms of the palace again, so tangible was the power that pulsed from Yuki. His gut response was to leap to his feet and flee, but he made himself hold on until the feeling began to ebb, the light dimming until it was outshone by the starlight.

Tamani pulled back and looked at Yuki; her eyes were closed and her face was ashen. He was afraid she was already gone, but slowly – laboriously – her lashes rose. “Give me your hands.”

Tamani obeyed her tiny whisper, and though he managed not to tremble, inside he was shaking with fear. What had she done?

She laid something warm on his palm – whatever it was, it was no longer a knife. Tamani peered down, careful to keep it concealed from Klea. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was seeing. “I don’t understand.”

With soft fingers on his cheek Yuki pulled his head closer, whispering directions on how to use the object she’d just made. When the extent of the possibilities dawned on him he gasped and closed his fingers back over the infinitely precious gift.

Then despair washed over him and he shook his head. “I won’t be able to use it,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be dead within the hour.”

But Yuki shook her head. “Laurel will save you,” she said firmly through her tears. “I’m the one who’s out of time.”

“Hang on,” Tamani said, holding her tighter, wishing he could believe in his own future as much as she did.

“No,” Yuki said, a sad smile crossing her face. “I have nothing left to live for. You do.”

“Don’t . . .”
Don’t what?
Tamani didn’t even know how to end the sentence; understanding for the first time how words could be so wholly inadequate.

“
Aishiteru,
” she sighed, the words slipping from her as her chest fell, and then was still.

“Yuki. Yuki!”

But Yuki gave no response.

With a stab of fear Tamani looked up at Klea and the captive soldiers, watching for their bonds to unravel now that Yuki wasn’t controlling them. But they didn’t. Yuki had done . . . something . . . to make sure that even after her death, Tamani would be safe. He was beginning to think she was as calculating as Klea, in her own way.

He let her body slide down his chest until her head rested on his lap. There was no reason to move her further. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do until Laurel came back. Assuming he lasted that long.

Could he last that long? He had to try.

Had the toxin killed Yuki, in the end? Or had it been her final act as a Winter faerie – the creation of a masterwork to rival the golden gates that Oberon had sacrificed his life to forge? Either way, Tamani knew his time was short. He had always assumed his life would end in a battle – at the tip of an enemy’s weapon. Or, if he lasted that long, by joining his father in the World Tree. Not sitting idly on the grass, waiting for death to steal over him.