Tamani couldn’t help but feel a sliver of pride that Laurel had sided with him.

“You can go back to sleep, or home, or whatever you want. I’ll call you the minute we get back.”

“No,” Chelsea said, the weariness in her voice gone. “If David’s going, I’m going too.”

“David is not going!” Tamani insisted.

“I just . . . I don’t want you guys to get hurt,” Laurel said, and Tamani could hear the strain in her voice.

“Come on,” Chelsea pleaded softly. “We’ve been through everything with you. We do it together. That’s been our motto for months.”

The last thing Tamani wanted was more passengers, and time wasn’t a luxury they had. He opened his mouth to declare exactly who was and was not coming, but the expression on Laurel’s face stopped him. She had her car keys in her hand and was giving them a strange look.

“Tamani, my car is back at your apartment. And so is yours.”

Tamani felt the fight drain from him like rain off maple leaves, leaving only the jagged sharpness of grief.

David had the good sense to not smile.

“Fine!” Tamani said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But they won’t let you through the gate, and in a couple hours, tops, those woods will be crawling with trolls and faeries and I won’t be there to protect you.” He gave Chelsea a look that begged her to stay. Stay where it was safe.

Safer.

Where at least there were sentries to watch over her. But as he met her determined gaze, he knew she wouldn’t.

“I guess that’s a chance we’re going to have to take,” she said calmly.

“My car’s in the driveway,” David offered, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

Tamani lowered his chin. With the exception of Laurel, and possibly his mother, he didn’t think there was anyone in the whole world he loved as much as Shar. Even having Laurel here, looking up at him with empathy, couldn’t lighten the weight he felt pressing down on him. She moved closer, but he turned his face away; if he looked into her beautiful eyes one second longer, he was going to crack and lose it entirely. Instead he stood stoically and nodded, blinking a couple times.

“OK. We have to move, though. Now.”

“Wait,” Laurel said as David started the engine. “I have to call my mom.” She went to open the car door, but Tamani stopped her with a hand on her thigh.

“Use this,” he said, handing her his mobile.

It felt morbid to touch the phone, but Laurel braced herself and reached out to take it. She dialled the shop and silently begged for her mom to pick up.

“Nature’s Cure!” her mom said. Just the familiar sound of her mother’s voice made her want to cry.

“Mom,” Laurel said, realising she didn’t even know what to say.

“We’re busy helping customers right now, but if you leave a message we’ll call you right back.”

Laurel’s throat tightened. Just the machine. She waited for the beep and took a deep breath. “H-hi, Mom,” Laurel said, clearing her throat as her voice cracked. “We . . . we’re leaving. We’re going to Avalon,” Laurel said quickly, glad her mother was the only person at the store who had the voice-mail password. “Shar – Shar got caught, and we have to go tell Jamison.”

She wasn’t sure what else to say; hated that it was a recording. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you,” Laurel whispered before jabbing her finger against the End Call button. She stared down at the phone in her hand for a long moment, knowing that if she looked anywhere else or tried to speak, she would start to cry. She hoped, prayed, that those weren’t the last words her parents would hear from her.

Tamani reached out his hand.

After a shuddering breath Laurel returned the phone to him. He flipped through his contact list and put the phone to his ear.

“Aaron. Shar is dead. Klea has Yuki and an army of trolls. They’re immune to Autumn magic and they know where the gate is. I’m taking Laurel to Avalon. When you’ve finished cleaning up at the apartment, I suggest you gather everyone who isn’t watching Laurel’s parents and head to the land. You’ll probably end up nipping at Klea’s heels. Goddess protect you.”

Every word came out evenly, tonelessly. But when Tamani ended the call, he turned the phone off and dropped it on the seat as though it had burned him. Laurel wondered if he would ever pick it up again.

Two final messages – one a heartfelt good bye, one a seemingly calm business call, despite its devastating message.

Laurel shuddered. It would almost have been better if Tamani had shouted, raged. But he was hiding everything, even from her, as he sat, his head pressed against the window. She felt helpless.

About five miles outside Crescent City, though, he ran one hand down Laurel’s arm and laced his fingers through hers, pulling her very subtly closer. His eyes remained fixed on the scenery outside his window, but his tight grip was sign enough that he needed an anchor. She found herself strangely proud to be the one he finally reached for. Even if her fingers were starting to ache.

No one said anything for most of the trip, at least in part because Chelsea had gone back to sleep, curled awkwardly in the semi-reclined passenger seat. It was probably good she hadn’t heard Shar’s call; no doubt sleep wouldn’t come easily if she had. Eventually, a rough stretch of asphalt jostled her awake, and she unbuckled her seat belt so she could turn round and talk to Laurel and Tamani.