“Except the Unseelie are forbidden to Garden, so there’s nowhere for a young faerie to come from in the camp. There hasn’t been a faerie sprouted outside of Avalon in over a thousand years. And we don’t exile seedlings.”
“Wait, what does that mean, forbidden to Garden?”
“They are . . . not allowed to reproduce,” Tamani said, wishing she hadn’t asked.
“And they can stop them how?” Laurel said hotly.
“The Fall faeries give them something,” Tamani said. “It destroys the females’ ability to blossom. No blossom, no seedlings.”
“They cripple them?” Laurel said, her eyes flashing.
“It’s not exactly crippling,” Tamani said helplessly.
“It doesn’t matter!” Laurel exclaimed. “That’s not a choice anyone has any right to mess with!”
“I don’t make the rules,” Tamani said. “And I’m not trying to say they’re doing the right thing. But look at this from Shar’s perspective. Because his mother was always secretly Unseelie, as a seedling Shar was taught about the Glamour. Among other things,” Tamani added cryptically. “Then his mother was branded Unseelie and sent to Hokkaido. Today we told him about a faerie who comes from Japan, where we keep the Unseelie. The fact that Yuki claims to have sprouted in Japan and happens to look Japanese doesn’t prove that the Glamour is real—you’ve seen how diverse our appearances are by human standards—but in Shar’s mind, it’s just one more thing connecting her to the Unseelie.”
“So why didn’t you mention the Unseelie before—when Yuki first showed up?”
They pulled up to the first red light in Crescent City and Tamani turned to face Laurel. “Because I think Shar is jumping to conclusions. The Unseelie are guarded very closely, and with good reason.” Tamani paused, remembering the one time he had accompanied Shar to Hokkaido. It had been terrifying to hear the pure insanity pouring from the mouths of fae whose eyes were so clear and intelligent—conspiracies and secret worlds and tales of dark magic that were clearly impossible. “I’ve seen the facility—they keep careful records of everyone there. Once you’re in that camp, you don’t leave until you die.”
“So if Yuki’s not Unseelie, what is she?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Tamani said, looking back at the road. “The idea of a wild faerie, with no allegiance to Seelie or Unseelie . . . that’s not something we ever expected to encounter. But I don’t see any convincing alternatives.”
“So what do we do now?” Laurel asked, looking up at him. Her earnest gaze was so open, so trusting; her pale green eyes blazed in the day’s dying light. Tamani didn’t realize he had started to lean toward her until he had to catch himself and pull back.
The next step would have to involve Laurel, even though he wished he could keep her out of it entirely. “Klea handed you an opportunity to befriend Yuki. Hopefully you can find out more.”
Laurel nodded. “Hopefully. She doesn’t seem to like Klea’s plan, though. I get the feeling she’s avoiding me.”
“Well, keep trying,” Tamani said, doing his best to sound encouraging. “But be careful. We still don’t know what she can do, or whether she intends to hurt you.”
Laurel looked down at her lap.
“And work on figuring out her caste,” Tamani added. Then, remembering that Laurel didn’t like that word—for reasons he suspected he’d never quite understand—he corrected himself. “Season, I mean. Just knowing that would make a huge difference. Then at least we’d know something.”
“Okay.”
Tamani pulled his car into Laurel’s driveway and she looked up at her house. She put a hand on the door handle, then paused.
“Is Shar . . . Unseelie?”
Tamani shook his head. “His mother tried to raise him that way, but Shar was never much of a believer. And after he met his companion, Ariana, the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out of Avalon. Ariana and their seedling, Lenore, are his whole world. As far as Shar is concerned, no price is too high for their safety—or the safety of Avalon. Even if it means his own mother has to live and die in exile.”
“I just wondered,” Laurel said softly.
“Hey, Laurel,” Tamani said, catching her wrist just before she was out of reach. He wanted to take that wrist and pull her closer, wrap her in his arms, forget everything else. His hands started to tremble with the wanting and he forced them to still. “Thank you for coming with me today. Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten in at all.”
“Was it worth it?” she asked, her wrist limp in his hand. “We didn’t find anything out. I hoped . . . I thought Jamison would know something.” She looked at him, her eyes only now reflecting the disappointment she must have been feeling all evening.
Tamani swallowed; he hated letting her down. “It was for me,” he said quietly, his eyes focused on their hands, so close to being joined. He didn’t want to let go. But if he didn’t, in a few seconds she would subtly tug her hand away, and that was worse. He forced his fingers to open, watched her arm drop to her side. At least this way, it was his choice.
“Besides,” he added, trying to sound casual, “it was good for Jamison to find out about Yuki and Klea. Shar is kind of . . . independent. He likes to figure things out on his own before he passes any information on. He’s stubborn like that.” Tamani leaned back in the driver’s seat, one arm resting atop the steering wheel. “I’ll say hi to you in the halls next week,” he said, smiling. And with a rubber-and-asphalt squeal, he sped away from Laurel’s house, resisting the urge to look back.
“Wait, what does that mean, forbidden to Garden?”
“They are . . . not allowed to reproduce,” Tamani said, wishing she hadn’t asked.
“And they can stop them how?” Laurel said hotly.
“The Fall faeries give them something,” Tamani said. “It destroys the females’ ability to blossom. No blossom, no seedlings.”
“They cripple them?” Laurel said, her eyes flashing.
“It’s not exactly crippling,” Tamani said helplessly.
“It doesn’t matter!” Laurel exclaimed. “That’s not a choice anyone has any right to mess with!”
“I don’t make the rules,” Tamani said. “And I’m not trying to say they’re doing the right thing. But look at this from Shar’s perspective. Because his mother was always secretly Unseelie, as a seedling Shar was taught about the Glamour. Among other things,” Tamani added cryptically. “Then his mother was branded Unseelie and sent to Hokkaido. Today we told him about a faerie who comes from Japan, where we keep the Unseelie. The fact that Yuki claims to have sprouted in Japan and happens to look Japanese doesn’t prove that the Glamour is real—you’ve seen how diverse our appearances are by human standards—but in Shar’s mind, it’s just one more thing connecting her to the Unseelie.”
“So why didn’t you mention the Unseelie before—when Yuki first showed up?”
They pulled up to the first red light in Crescent City and Tamani turned to face Laurel. “Because I think Shar is jumping to conclusions. The Unseelie are guarded very closely, and with good reason.” Tamani paused, remembering the one time he had accompanied Shar to Hokkaido. It had been terrifying to hear the pure insanity pouring from the mouths of fae whose eyes were so clear and intelligent—conspiracies and secret worlds and tales of dark magic that were clearly impossible. “I’ve seen the facility—they keep careful records of everyone there. Once you’re in that camp, you don’t leave until you die.”
“So if Yuki’s not Unseelie, what is she?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Tamani said, looking back at the road. “The idea of a wild faerie, with no allegiance to Seelie or Unseelie . . . that’s not something we ever expected to encounter. But I don’t see any convincing alternatives.”
“So what do we do now?” Laurel asked, looking up at him. Her earnest gaze was so open, so trusting; her pale green eyes blazed in the day’s dying light. Tamani didn’t realize he had started to lean toward her until he had to catch himself and pull back.
The next step would have to involve Laurel, even though he wished he could keep her out of it entirely. “Klea handed you an opportunity to befriend Yuki. Hopefully you can find out more.”
Laurel nodded. “Hopefully. She doesn’t seem to like Klea’s plan, though. I get the feeling she’s avoiding me.”
“Well, keep trying,” Tamani said, doing his best to sound encouraging. “But be careful. We still don’t know what she can do, or whether she intends to hurt you.”
Laurel looked down at her lap.
“And work on figuring out her caste,” Tamani added. Then, remembering that Laurel didn’t like that word—for reasons he suspected he’d never quite understand—he corrected himself. “Season, I mean. Just knowing that would make a huge difference. Then at least we’d know something.”
“Okay.”
Tamani pulled his car into Laurel’s driveway and she looked up at her house. She put a hand on the door handle, then paused.
“Is Shar . . . Unseelie?”
Tamani shook his head. “His mother tried to raise him that way, but Shar was never much of a believer. And after he met his companion, Ariana, the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out of Avalon. Ariana and their seedling, Lenore, are his whole world. As far as Shar is concerned, no price is too high for their safety—or the safety of Avalon. Even if it means his own mother has to live and die in exile.”
“I just wondered,” Laurel said softly.
“Hey, Laurel,” Tamani said, catching her wrist just before she was out of reach. He wanted to take that wrist and pull her closer, wrap her in his arms, forget everything else. His hands started to tremble with the wanting and he forced them to still. “Thank you for coming with me today. Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten in at all.”
“Was it worth it?” she asked, her wrist limp in his hand. “We didn’t find anything out. I hoped . . . I thought Jamison would know something.” She looked at him, her eyes only now reflecting the disappointment she must have been feeling all evening.
Tamani swallowed; he hated letting her down. “It was for me,” he said quietly, his eyes focused on their hands, so close to being joined. He didn’t want to let go. But if he didn’t, in a few seconds she would subtly tug her hand away, and that was worse. He forced his fingers to open, watched her arm drop to her side. At least this way, it was his choice.
“Besides,” he added, trying to sound casual, “it was good for Jamison to find out about Yuki and Klea. Shar is kind of . . . independent. He likes to figure things out on his own before he passes any information on. He’s stubborn like that.” Tamani leaned back in the driver’s seat, one arm resting atop the steering wheel. “I’ll say hi to you in the halls next week,” he said, smiling. And with a rubber-and-asphalt squeal, he sped away from Laurel’s house, resisting the urge to look back.
