“Now what?” Laurel asked.

“David and I will head out first,” Tamani said, waving his spear at the faeries who were situating a wooden ladder beneath one of the high-set dining hall windows. “It’s not an ideal staging ground for an evacuation, but between the skylights, the firewalls, and the fountain, we should have time to get everyone out – if we can get in and out those windows without getting shot.”

Laurel could tell something else was bothering him in the way he kept checking the sky. “What?” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

After a few seconds he turned to her. “There’s no way Klea will stick around – she knows she’s won here. She’s going to head to the Winter Palace next – someone has to stop her. I have to stop her.”

He was right. “Take me with you,” Laurel insisted.

“Laurel, please,” he begged, but she was already shaking her head.

“Not with you to Klea – just get me out of here. Me and Yeardley. We’ll get Jamison.” She stepped closer so no one, not even Chelsea and David, could hear her. “You know he’s our only shot.”

“Will Yeardley even agree to come with you?” Tamani asked, and Laurel glanced at him where he was still organising the panicked fae. He was the Academy’s beacon, and she wanted to take him away.

“He’ll have to, won’t he?” Laurel said, the words choking her.

A commotion drew her attention as the light round her took on a strange, sickly hue. It took Laurel only a second to realise it was coming from the skylights overhead. The red mist must have spilled out the upstairs windows and was now making its way across the wide roof of the dining hall, coating the glass skylight and, as Laurel turned her eyes upwards spilling over.

The wide waterfall of deadly poison cascaded through the air for at least six metres before reaching the floor, striking an unconscious, soot-stained faerie lying on a linen-covered table. He convulsed silently before going still as the oily red gas spilled across the floor.

A collective murmur of dismay rippled through the gathered fae a moment before the panic set in. They turned almost as one and Laurel barely managed to stay on her feet as faeries pushed past her, hardly seeming to see her – to see anything beyond their desperation.

Laurel’s eyes remained fixed on the ruby mist, her hand clutching Tamani’s fingers as the truth slammed into her.

They hadn’t escaped Klea’s poison; they’d played right into her plan.

And now there was no way out.

The red death moved slowly, so very slowly, its smoky tendrils more like a living thing than a simple gas. It curled around its victims, taking easy prey first – the fae who lay unconscious on the floor.

I have to save them! Desperation banished every rational thought from Laurel’s head and she threw herself toward the fallen bodies only to meet Tamani’s chest as he stepped in her way. “Laurel, you can’t.”

She fought against him, trying to get to the helpless, unconscious fae. Tamani’s arms were tight around her waist and dimly she felt David’s fingers on her face, caressing, trying to calm her.

“Laurel,” David whispered. “Stop.” The gentle word was so quiet it made her freeze as though he had yelled it. “We have to think,” he said, and slowly Laurel forced herself to be still.

Everyone who could stand was up on tables, mostly at the edges of the room, wide-eyed with horror. Fire blocked the obvious exits; poison seeped in everywhere the fire failed to reach . . . Laurel could almost feel the contempt Klea had put into every detail of this elaborate assault. These people had been her teachers, her friends – her family, really. But it was clear from her actions today that Klea wanted them all to die, and what was more, she wanted them all to die afraid.

Laurel realised she was shaking with anger. Forget the trolls; the biggest monster in Avalon was Klea.

Laurel shoved David’s arms away and strode to a faerie lying unconscious just a few feet from the creeping smoke. Laurel pushed her arms around the young faerie’s chest and began to drag her backward, away from the danger.

Tamani grabbed her hand, but Laurel yanked it away. He reached out to grasp it again and held it tightly this time. “Laurel, what are you doing? Where are you going to take her?”

“I don’t know!” Laurel shouted, angry tears burning her eyes. “Just . . . away from that!” She went back to her task, pulling another faerie out of immediate reach of the red mist. They would all die anyway, but somehow Laurel couldn’t let them die right now, not when she could at least prolong their lives. She grabbed another faerie’s shoulders and began dragging her back to join the first.

With a nod, Tamani stepped up and did the same thing, lifting another faerie and pulling him away from the smoke that was drawing nearer, inch by slow inch, as it filled the dining hall entrance and crept further into the room. It was pouring from the open skylights in earnest now, and the floor would soon be a deadly crimson swamp.

Chelsea and David pulled another faerie up onto a table and others began joining in, mimicking Laurel’s futile act of service, dragging the wounded and the fallen back until there was a line of bare stone between the smoke and its next victims.

As David started on another faerie, Tamani stopped him with a hand on his chest. “You have to move the sword.” The smoke was only a few inches away from where David had left it, with the blade sunk several inches into the marble tiles. “We cannot lose it.”