Then despair washed over him and he shook his head. “I won’t be able to use it,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be dead within the hour.”

But Yuki shook her head. “Laurel will save you,” she said firmly through her tears. “I’m the one who’s out of time.”

“Hang on,” Tamani said, holding her tighter, wishing he could believe in his own future as much as she did.

“No,” Yuki said, a sad smile crossing her face. “I have nothing left to live for. You do.”

“Don’t . . .” Don’t what? Tamani didn’t even know how to end the sentence; understanding for the first time how words could be so wholly inadequate.

“Aishiteru,” she sighed, the words slipping from her as her chest fell, and then was still.

“Yuki. Yuki!”

But Yuki gave no response.

With a stab of fear Tamani looked up at Klea and the captive soldiers, watching for their bonds to unravel now that Yuki wasn’t controlling them. But they didn’t. Yuki had done . . . something . . . to make sure that even after her death, Tamani would be safe. He was beginning to think she was as calculating as Klea, in her own way.

He let her body slide down his chest until her head rested on his lap. There was no reason to move her further. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do until Laurel came back. Assuming he lasted that long.

Could he last that long? He had to try.

Had the toxin killed Yuki, in the end? Or had it been her final act as a Winter faerie – the creation of a masterwork to rival the golden gates that Oberon had sacrificed his life to forge? Either way, Tamani knew his time was short. He had always assumed his life would end in a battle – at the tip of an enemy’s weapon. Or, if he lasted that long, by joining his father in the World Tree. Not sitting idly on the grass, waiting for death to steal over him.

But there he sat beneath the slivered moon, Yuki’s limp form draped across his lap, idly stroking her hair as he watched David, almost halfway done digging the trench that would encircle all the poisoned faeries.

Carefully – without attracting any attention – Tamani reached his hand into his pocket and pushed Yuki’s gift as far down as he could. He couldn’t lose it; couldn’t tell anyone else what it was.

Because there was no artifact, no single item in all of Avalon – including the sword that David was digging with – as dangerous as the one Yuki had just given him.

The windows of the Winter Palace were as dark as the night sky, and as Laurel approached she closed her eyes, desperately hoping her plan had worked.

“Laurel!” Chelsea’s whisper sounded from a cluster of honeysuckle.

“I knew you would figure it out,” Laurel said, throwing her arms around her friend as she stepped from her cover.

“What are you doing? You’re not really going to do what Klea said, are you?”

“Not if I can help it,” Laurel said grimly.

“What can I do?”

“I need you to go to the Winter Palace. Tell the sentries that Marion and Yasmine are still in danger and that they are not to let them come out until you personally tell them it’s OK. Klea can’t see them.”

“But—”

“Even their Winter powers can’t do anything because we need Klea alive and cooperative. We need what’s in her head.”

“Can’t Jamison, like, read her mind?” Chelsea asked. “If he’s OK, I mean,” she added when a flash of fear went across Laurel’s face.

“Maybe,” Laurel said, pushing her dismal thoughts away. “But I don’t think so. It took Yuki a long time to just get the location of the gate from me. Besides, even if he could just pluck a recipe from her brain, it’s not enough.” Laurel hesitated. It had taken her a long time to understand what Yeardley had meant when he taught her about the mixing process: The most essential ingredient in any mixing is you.

“It’s hard to explain, but that’s how Mixing works. I think Marion might kill her on principle, and we can’t let that happen – just in case. After that I need you to run back to the Academy and tell Yeardley everything Klea said about her poisons, especially the red smoke. We may need to go back into the Academy, so they’ll want to know the poison neutralised itself. Tell him I’m trying to find a solution, and tell him . . . tell him to be ready.”

“Ready for what? What are you going to do?”

Laurel sighed. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “But I guarantee I’m going to need help.”

“Where are you going?”

Laurel looked to the top of a far-off hill. “To the only place left to turn,” she said.

Chelsea nodded, then took off like a shot, following the back wall towards the crumbling archway they had crossed through earlier that day. It felt like an eternity ago. Laurel watched her for a few moments before turning and beginning her own journey.

Would Tamani last another hour? Could she do this in time? Laurel’s energy was already sapped, but she pushed herself to run faster, even as breathing grew painful and she reached the bottom of the valley between her and her destination.

One more hill to climb. The thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes as exhaustion threatened to crumple her to her knees. The night air was chilled but her legs burned as she climbed.

When she crested the hill she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before stepping under the expansive canopy of the World Tree.