“Well?”

Laurel spun around, startled by the sound of Tamani’s voice. He was standing next to David in the front room. Both had their arms crossed in front of them.

“When did you get here?” she asked, confused.

“About half a second before you answered the door,” David replied for him.

“What did she want?” Tamani asked. He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I couldn’t quite hear what she was saying. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she picked that spot on purpose—like she knew I was there.”

Laurel shook her head. “It’s the porch, Tamani. It’s a common place to sit and chat.”

Tamani looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “So what’s going on? Why was Yuki with her?”

“Who’s Yuki?” David asked.

“The girl from Japan,” Tamani said brusquely. “The exchange student.”

Laurel stared at him for a second, wondering if he already knew. But she remembered that they had all toured the school together. Obviously Robison would have made introductions. Besides, he would have told her if he knew—wouldn’t he?

“She’s a faerie,” Laurel said softly.

Stunned silence buzzed in her ears.

Tamani opened his mouth, then stopped and closed it. He laughed humorlessly. “Those eyes. I should have seen it.” His grimace became a determined scowl. “So Klea knows about faeries—we have to assume she knows about you.”

“I’m not sure she does know about faeries,” Laurel said slowly. “She called Yuki a dryad.” Laurel sat down on the couch—where David immediately joined her—and related the rest of the conversation as Tamani paced the room. “I don’t like her and I don’t trust her, but I don’t think Klea actually knows what Yuki is.”

Tamani stood still now, his knuckles pressed softly against his mouth.

“Klea did save our lives. Twice, even,” David said. “But bringing another faerie to Del Norte seems like a pretty big coincidence.”

“Right,” Laurel said, trying to sort out her feelings. Part of her was overjoyed. Another faerie, living as a human! And not just for show, like Tamani, but raised from a young age by adoptive parents. That part of Laurel wanted to embrace Yuki and pull her inside the house and grill her about her life, her coping techniques, her daily routine. What did she eat? Had she blossomed yet? But revealing anything to Yuki surely meant telling Klea as well, and that was not something Laurel wanted to do.

“What do we know about Yuki?” David asked, looking to Tamani, who again crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Basically nothing. But she’s involved with Klea, so we know she can’t be trusted,” Tamani said darkly.

“What if Klea’s telling the truth?” Whatever her doubts about Klea, Laurel found herself hoping that Yuki was, at worst, an innocent pawn. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps just a natural desire to defend her own kind. Besides, she seemed so timid and shy. “I mean, if she’s here to spy, why reveal herself at all?”

“There are a lot of different ways to spy,” Tamani said slowly. “Yuki could be a diversion, or she could be hiding in plain sight. Knowing Yuki is a faerie isn’t nearly as important as knowing 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 easy. “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—”