Laurel nodded.

“We would also like to assist you in one more way. But,” he said, one long finger in the air, “it is a conditional offer.”

“Whatever you need,” Laurel said earnestly. “I’ll make it happen.”

“It’s not a condition for you. Here,” he said, opening his palm to reveal what looked like an almost golf ball–sized piece of rough crystal. “I would like you to offer this to your mother.” He placed the rock in Laurel’s hand, and she gaped at the gem.

“Is this a diamond?”

“Yes, child. One that size should be sufficient for any need you may have. Here is our offer. You know you were placed with your human parents for the sole reason of obtaining the land upon their eventual death.” When Laurel nodded, he continued. “Recent events have made your purpose so much more important, and we must see this property transfer ownership sooner. This gem is for your parents if they will put the land into a trust in your name as soon as your father’s health allows. How and what you tell them is a decision only you can make.” His voice became very firm. “But you must own this land, Laurel.

And we are certainly willing to pay a fair price for that to happen.”

Laurel nodded and tucked the gem into her pocket. “I’m sure they’ll agree.”

“I believe you are right,” Jamison said. “You need to hurry, Laurel. Your father’s time is measured in hours now, not days.”

“Thank you,” Laurel whispered, and turned to leave.

“Oh, Laurel?”

“Yes?”

“I hope to see you again soon. Very soon,” he added. His eyes sparkled as he lifted his old lips into a gentle, knowing smile.

24

IT SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE THAT THE DRIVE BETWEEN Brookings and Orick could feel longer than when she held Tamani fading in her arms. But alone with David—her pockets filled with two of the greatest treasures she could imagine—the miles crept by slower than ever. The old faerie’s words pounded through her head. Your father’s time is measured in hours now, not days. He had said hours, plural, but what did that mean? And how close to the end was too late?

Laurel kept taking the bottle out and cupping it in her hands, then tucking it back into her pocket, not sure which was her safest choice. In the end she left it in her pocket—if for no other reason than to keep David from asking questions she couldn’t answer.

Which he hadn’t so far. After hugging her when she stumbled out of the woods, he had silently opened her door and said, “The hospital?” He hadn’t said a word since. She was grateful for his silence. She hadn’t decided yet what she could and could not tell him. Weeks earlier she’d promised to tell him everything Tamani said unless it was a faerie secret. But she hadn’t actually expected to be made privy to such details.

Now she had. She knew the location of a gateway that any troll would kill her or her loved ones to gain access to. Perhaps telling David would only put him in more danger.

So nothing was the best thing to say right now.

He finally pulled into the hospital parking lot and looked up at the tall, gray building. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

Laurel shook her head. “We’re both a mess. At least if there’s only me, maybe I won’t draw quite so much attention.” Not likely, she added in her mind.

“I’ll stay out here and call my mom, then.” He hesitated, then laid his hand over hers. “I need to head back to Crescent City in a few hours—my mom’s going to have kittens when I call her as it is. She’s left me about twenty messages. But if you need anything…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “You know where to find me.”

“I’ll come down soon to say good-bye. But I have to go see my dad right now.”

“They gave you something to save him, didn’t they?”

Tears filled Laurel’s eyes. “As long as it’s not too late.”

“Go, then…I’ll wait for you.”

Laurel leaned in to hug him before pushing the car door open and hurrying to the hospital entrance.

She tried to stay out of sight as much as possible. Her tank top was stained with mud from the bank of the Chetco River, and she’d forgotten to get her jacket back from David to cover it. On top of that, her hair was a mess, her jeans were torn over the right knee, and she was still wearing the oddly fashioned moccasins.

At least the river had washed David’s blood out of her shirt. And she didn’t have a face full of bruises like he did. Not visible ones, anyway, she thought, touching a particularly sensitive spot on her cheek.

She managed to reach her father’s room without actually being approached by anyone—though she did receive several probing looks—and took a deep breath before knocking on the door and pushing it open. She peeked around the curtain and saw her mother asleep with her head on her father’s thigh. The room was full of familiar sounds; the beeping of her father’s heartbeat, the soft whoosh of oxygen puffing through his nose tube, the buzz of the pressure cuff inflating on his arm. But instead of being daunting the way they had for the last three weeks, the sounds brought instant relief. Her father was alive, even if just barely.

Her mom’s eyes fluttered open. “Laurel? Laurel!” She staggered to her feet and ran to her daughter, flinging her arms around her. “Where have you been? I was terrified when you didn’t come back last night. I thought…I don’t even know what I thought. A million horrible thoughts all at once.” She shook Laurel’s shoulders a little. “If I weren’t so happy to see you, I’d ground you for a month.”