“Stay?”

“You could live here…with me.” He continued on before she could speak.

“You’re going to own the land soon. And there’s a house. You could stay!”

Glorious thoughts of life with Tamani spun through Laurel’s head, but she forced them aside. “No, Tam. I can’t.”

“You lived here before. And things were good.”

“Good? How were things good? I was being constantly watched and you guys were feeding my parents memory elixirs like they were water!”

Tamani focused on the ground. “You figured that out?”

“It was the only logical explanation.”

“I didn’t like it either, if that helps.”

She took a deep breath. “Did they…did they ever make me forget? After I got here, I mean.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Sometimes.”

“Did you ever do it?” she asked tentatively.

He looked at her with wide eyes, then shook his head. “I couldn’t.” He leaned closer, his voice so low she could barely hear. “I should have, once. But I couldn’t do it.”

“What happened?”

He scratched at his neck. “I hate that you don’t remember.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “You were really young. I was a new sentry—I’d been out maybe a week—and I got sloppy and let you see me.”

“I saw you?”

“Yeah, you were about ten in human years. I just put my finger to my lips to quiet you and ducked back behind a tree. You looked for me for a minute or two, but within an hour you seemed to have forgotten it.”

Laurel stood silently for a long time. “I—I remember that. Just barely. That was you?”

Joy glowed out of Tamani’s eyes. “You remember?”

Laurel broke eye contact. “A little,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat.

“What about my parents? Did you ever dope them?”

Tamani sighed. “A couple of times. I had to,” he added before Laurel could argue. “It was my job. But only two or three times. By the time I got here, you were more careful. We didn’t have to patch you up once a week. And the times when your parents got too close, I tried to assign someone else.” He shrugged.

“I always thought it was a lousy plan to begin with.”

Laurel was silent for a moment. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t be mad. It wouldn’t be like that if you stayed now. You know everything.

Your parents even know. We wouldn’t have to do that anymore.”

She shook her head. “I have to stay with my parents. They’re in more danger than ever. I’ve been given the responsibility of protecting them. I can’t turn my back on them now. They’re human—and maybe that seems lesser to you. But I love them and I won’t leave them to be slaughtered by the first troll who comes across their scent. I won’t!”

“Then why are you here?” he asked bitterly.

She paused for a few seconds, trying to control her emotions. “Don’t you know how much I wish I could stay? I love this forest. I love—” She hesitated. “I love being with you. Hearing about Avalon, feeling its magic in the trees. Every time I leave, I wonder why.”

“Then why do you go?” His voice was louder now, demanding. “Stay,” he said, grasping her hands in his. “Stay with me. I’ll take you to Avalon. Avalon, Laurel.

You can go there. We can go together.”

“Stop! Tamani, I can’t. I just can’t be part of your world right now.”

“Your world.”

Laurel nodded weakly. “My world,” she relented. “My family is depending on me for too much. I have to live my human life.”

“With David,” Tamani said.

Laurel shook her head, frustrated. “Yes, if you must know. David is very important to me. But I told you, this is not about choosing between you and David. I’m not trying to decide who’s my one true love. It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not for you.”

His voice was quiet—barely audible—but the intensity hit her like a tangible blow.

“What does it take, Laurel? I’ve done everything I can think of. I got shot to protect you. Tell me what else to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if you’ll just stay.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes—deep pools of an emotion she’d never been able to identify. Her mouth went dry as she tried to find her voice. “Why do you love me so much, Tamani?” It was a question she’d been longing to ask for weeks. “You scarcely even know me.”

Above their heads the sky rumbled. “What if—what if that wasn’t true?”

They were on the edge of a cliff, she could feel it. And she wasn’t sure she had the strength to jump. “How could it not be true?” she whispered.

Those fiery eyes still burned into hers. “What if I told you our lives were entwined long ago?” He slipped his fingers through hers, holding up their joined fists.

Laurel stared at their hands. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you that you were seven when you came to live with the humans. But in the faerie world, you were mentally much older, remember? You had a life, Laurel. You had friends.” He paused, and Laurel could see he was trying to maintain control over his emotions. “You had me.” Tamani’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I knew you, Laurel, and you knew me. We were just friends, but we were such good friends. I…I asked you not to go, but you told me it was your duty. I learned about duty and responsibility from you.” He looked down and lifted her hands to his chest. “You said you’d try to remember me, but they made you forget. I thought I would die the first time you looked at me and didn’t recognize me.”