The parade of faeries had stopped emerging from the smoke and Yeardley and some of the older fae were crouched at the hole, calling to the few who must still be in there. Where was Laurel?

His eyes found David, working with several faeries to raise the piece of stone wall upright, ready to push it back where it had been. Chelsea was kneeling beside someone who was on the floor coughing – probably a faerie who had breathed in too much smoke.

But no Laurel. Tamani scanned the crowd, then again, and a third time, but he couldn’t find her.

Fear clutched him as he realised she must still be inside. All thoughts of weariness left him and he ran to the hole David had carved, elbowing through the crowd.

“No more,” an older faerie said, laying a firm hand on his chest.

“I just have to see,” Tamani said, pushing him away. “I have to . . .” But no one was listening. He stopped talking and focused on worming his way closer when he managed to get a quick look over a shorter female’s head.

There she was! Just three metres away from the exit, struggling to save one last faerie, her back to them as she pulled him toward the opening.

“Leave him!” Yeardley was yelling, but that blonde head was shaking furiously.

Tamani cursed Laurel’s stubbornness and tried to push forwards again. “I’ll go get her,” he said. But no one seemed to hear him, the hands pushing back at him growing stronger as they all began to panic.

Why won’t she leave him?

“I have to . . . I have to.” Tamani continued struggling against the faeries, his words no longer coherent, only one thought in his mind. I have to get to her.

Tamani’s breath caught as Laurel stumbled backwards, the bulk of the faerie she’d been dragging dropping on to her legs, pinning her. She was kicking the weight away, but somehow Tamani knew those few precious seconds had tipped the balance against her.

“No!” he screamed, launching himself forwards making little progress in the crowded greenhouse.

She heard him – he could tell; she was scrambling to her hands and knees, turning her face toward his voice. But then she convulsed, silently, as the poisonous tendrils overtook her, her pink shirt seeming to glow in the darkness as the wispy red smoke enveloped it.

Everything inside Tamani shattered, razor-sharp edges that cut every inch of his body from the inside.

“That’s everyone,” Yeardley said mournfully, gesturing David and the faeries forwards with the stone square. “We can save no more. Block it.”

Tamani’s feet seemed to have taken root in the ground. “No!” he screamed again. “Good Goddess, no!”

David heaved against the stone with all his might.

He must not realise; he would never let them leave Laurel like that. Tamani opened his mouth to warn David but his throat closed around his desperate words, blocking off the last rays of hope.

He couldn’t say the words.

Couldn’t say anything.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t see.

Blackness descended around him. He had to get to her – he couldn’t live without her, didn’t know how. Didn’t know how to breathe in and out in a world she wasn’t a part of.

Strong hands slammed him against the wall, the pain of his head hitting the stone bringing back the tiniest modicum of reason. Enough that he was able to blink and clear his vision – to see the face centimetres away from his nose. He didn’t know the faerie – it was just another Mixer – but the pain in his eyes reflected Tamani’s own.

“You have to let her go,” he said. And Tamani knew this faerie had been forced to let someone he loved go too. “This fight isn’t over yet,” the faerie pinning him said. “That rebel faerie’s still out there, and we’re going to need you.”

Klea.

She had taken everything – everything – from him.

She was going to the Winter Palace next. It was the only logical step.

There was no time to wait for the others. He had to go now.

She would kill him this time; he knew that. There would be no Shar to save him.

Maybe he could slow her down. Then she could kill him.

And, Goddess willing, then he would be with Laurel.

He forced himself to nod, to breathe evenly. To stop fighting against this faerie who held him back. He didn’t want to wait for Chelsea to discover Laurel was gone – to see David realise what he’d done. Didn’t think he could stand to share his pain with them.

The faerie in front of him said something – Tamani may as well have been deaf – and Tamani nodded, settling his forehead against the glass wall as if defeated. But his eyes roved the land outside, still just visible in the fading light. The steeply pitched roof of the greenhouse made the red gas slough off to the sides. This left the front door, just under the apex of the ceiling, safe. It wasn’t guarded – who would think to guard it?

Only a crazy fool would want to leave right now.

Tamani edged closer to the door, trying not to draw attention to himself, putting more and more rows of plants between himself and the crowd of Mixers. He was almost there when the one who had spoken to him earlier glanced back. He met Tamani’s eye, but he was too far away. Tamani slipped out the door, the glass frame closing and cutting off the protest.

Then he was running. He felt light, weightless, almost like he could fly as his feet pounded against the mud and grass and he ran for the Academy’s living wall, heedless of any of Klea’s minions who might still be watching.