Destined Page 8

  He plunged the tip of the sword into the earth and wiped his hands on his jeans. Chelsea bounced anxiously from foot to foot beside Laurel until Laurel wanted to grab her arm to make her stand still. After a deep breath, David cracked his knuckles – how often had Laurel watched him do that? – and reached for Excalibur again.

  “Screw it,” Chelsea muttered under her breath. “I am not going to die today without doing this. Wait!” she called out before David could touch the sword.

  He scarcely had time to turn around before Chelsea grabbed his face and pulled him down, pressing her lips firmly to his. Laurel saw the moment more like a snapshot than an actual event. Chelsea. Kissing David. Not a moment of romance and seduction – rather of desperation and bravado. Still, Chelsea was kissing Laurel’s boyfriend.

  He’s not my boyfriend, Laurel told herself. She looked down and forced back her weird jealousy. When she looked up again, the moment had passed.

  Chelsea spun away from David, avoiding everyone’s eyes – especially Laurel’s – her face burning red.

  David gaped open-mouthed for a moment before he composed himself and grabbed Excalibur, shouldering it, and turned to trail after Tamani.

  He, too, avoided Laurel’s eyes.

  The dust was already clearing when they arrived at the breach, and all the trolls in sight were heavily armed. Laurel had expected Klea’s soldiers to be carrying guns, but guns was far too simple a word for these weapons. They were semiautomatics, assault rifles, machine guns, the kind Laurel had only seen in movies. Sentries had pinned some of the trolls down in the gap as they tried to escape – arrow-riddled bodies outside the wall lay crumpled in testament to the archers” vigilance – but the remaining trolls were waiting for the faeries to give up their cover, to step away from the safety of the stone walls and bring the fight to them.

  David scarcely hesitated before doing exactly what the trolls obviously wanted; he raised Excalibur and strode right through the hole in the wall. The first gun-toting troll spotted him and opened fire as Tamani pulled Chelsea and Laurel down behind a smooth-barked aspen, but not before Laurel saw David reflexively duck his head and raise an arm to shield himself from the assault. A second troll’s gun joined the first, staccato bursts like a string of firecrackers assaulting Laurel’s ears even louder than the shriek that escaped her throat.

  She forced herself to peek around the tree at David, who was, she saw with relief, still standing. He studied his limbs and touched his face before holding Excalibur out in front of him and taking it in from point to hilt. Then he reached down and picked something up off the ground.

  It took Laurel a moment to realise that the vaguely oblong metal bead in David’s hand was a bullet. He stood there, deaf to the fray, staring at that misshapen bit of metal, awe blossoming over his face.

  “Yes, the sword works!” Tamani shouted over the gunfire, flinching back as a bullet notched the tree near his face. “Now can you please kill some trolls?”

  Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, David turned and charged his assailants. Several of them grinned menacingly; David looked like a child with a stick getting ready to try to beat up an oncoming freight train.

  But when he clumsily swung his enchanted blade it cleaved the closest troll in two.

  Laurel wasn’t sure exactly what she had been expecting, but she most certainly had not been expecting the troll to fall to the ground in two cleanly severed pieces.

  It didn’t seem to be quite what David expected either. He stopped and stared at the bleeding corpse at his feet. The other trolls howled and attacked, their fists, knives, and clubs failing to so much as jostle David. With a jerky motion that looked more reflexive than purposeful, David brought the sword up again, and another troll fell to the ground in bloodied pieces.

  “Snicker-snack,” Chelsea whispered, awestruck.

  With the corpses of two trolls at his feet, David was again stunned into inaction. Laurel could see his chest heaving as he stared at the carnage.

  “David!” Tamani’s voice was sharp, but Laurel thought she detected concern, as well. The remaining trolls had recovered from their shock and raised their weapons again.

  Snapping to attention, David’s eyebrows furrowed. He lunged forward, slicing one troll’s enormous gun in two, separating another from its weapon by taking off its hands. His swings grew ferocious, indiscriminately cleaving metal and flesh alike with all the effort it might take to carve gelatin with a steak knife.

  As David made a gap in the onslaught, Tamani stepped out of the protective cover of the trees. “Get some sentries into this breach!” he shouted. “Anyone without a weapon, I want you stacking rocks!”

  The sentries were successfully cutting down many of the trolls that came pouring through the gateway, but many wasn’t enough; the sentries were losing ground. Fighting had broken out in a dozen places throughout the Garden, and the archers on the walls were rushing to and fro in an effort to keep the trolls contained without wounding the sentries on the ground.

  “There’s too many,” David called, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to get to all of them before they break down more of the wall.”

  “Then let’s at least stem the tide,” Tamani said. “If you can keep any more from making it through the gateway, maybe—”

  But his words were cut off as a group of six or seven trolls emerged from the trees, making a run for the breach. Before anyone on the wall could react, however, thick roots erupted from the ground, spraying black earth into the air. They waved menacingly, and for a moment Laurel was afraid Yuki had arrived to finish them all off, but then the roots swept backwards, throwing the trolls against the trees, where their howls of anger turned to cries of pain.

  “I agree,” Jamison said, approaching from the direction of the Garden entrance. Somewhere along the way he’d rejoined his Am Fear-faire, who were ready to fight beside him. “If David can defend the gate itself, I believe the sentries can clear the Garden.”

  Laurel didn’t understand how Jamison could retain such an optimistic calm in the midst of such chaos, but the sentries close enough to hear Jamison’s pronouncement were visibly encouraged by his words and Laurel realised it was deliberate.

  “Most of these sentries have never seen a troll, much less killed one,” Jamison whispered to Tamani and David, confirming Laurel’s conclusion. “Tamani, your experience will be invaluable here. If you’ll allow me to look after your charge, I promise I’ll return her to you safely. I’d appreciate you joining David at the gates.”

  Tamani nodded, though his jaw was clenched; Laurel knew he didn’t like leaving her, but he wasn’t about to argue with Jamison. David also said nothing – though he did spare a glance back at both Laurel and Chelsea before following Tamani into the trees.

  “Stay close,” Jamison said without looking at them, his attention wholly focused on the battle.

  With a nod, two of the Am Fear-faire shifted to include Laurel and Chelsea in their circle of protection.

  Jamison set off down the interior perimeter of the Gate Garden as though he were on an evening stroll. When they encountered two black-clad trolls tearing chunks out of the stone wall, Jamison bent, stretching his arms forward. Mimicking his pose, two enormous oak trees also leaned forward, their mighty branches creaking and groaning as they wrapped around the trolls and then straightened, flinging the beasts up to such a height that Laurel knew they would never survive the fall.

  Before Laurel could dwell too long on what it would feel like to be thrown to her death by an oak tree, they met a small group of sentries fighting desperately against several trolls that had armed themselves with massive tree branches, which they were wielding like giant clubs. Laurel guessed they were about to have their wooden weapons turned against them; but instead, when one of the trolls turned to charge Jamison, it sank into the ground, clawing madly at the dirt that closed over its head.

  One by one, the rest of the trolls disappeared as if they’d stepped into quic
ksand. When the last one turned to flee, Laurel caught sight of the roots Jamison was calling up from the ground to drag the trolls under, burying them alive in Avalon’s fertile soil.

  Laurel tried to keep an eye on the guys as Jamison circled the Garden, assisting the sentries. David was easy; it was almost impossible to miss the arcs of blood being cast off his magical weapon with every swing. He looked less like a swordsman and more like a farmer at spring harvest, reaping a never-ending crop of howling monsters. He was truly untouchable. It didn’t matter if he was shifting directions or actually aiming for a troll, every movement of the sword brought down bodies.

  Occasionally, Tamani would emerge from the fray and shout an order at someone, but even dressed in her dad’s shirt Laurel had a hard time following him as he blended in with the other sentries, all swinging their weapons, watching for each other, and fighting to keep the trolls at bay.

  When they had first entered the Garden, Laurel thought there was no way this simple fighting force could beat the battle-crazed hordes pouring from the gate. But now – with the help of Jamison and Excalibur – the faeries were slowly, slowly, driving the trolls back through the gate.

  They were winning.

  Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the battle for the gate was over. The shouts of the sentries were deafening as they closed ranks on a handful of remaining trolls. As the final troll fell, everyone’s eyes went to the gate.

  But nothing else came through.

  After the rage of battle, the quiet was deafening. Laurel’s ears adjusted gradually, and soon she could hear groans and murmurs of pain from the wounded faeries and the buzz of the sentries on the walls as they spread the news to those who couldn’t see for themselves.

  Tamani was favouring one of his shoulders and his eyes were wary as he and David approached Jamison’s circle of Am Fear-faire.

  “Did we win?” Chelsea whispered. “Can Jamison close the gate?”

  Tamani immediately shook his head.

  “It’s not over,” he said softly. “If it was, my sentries would have come through to tell us.” He gritted his teeth. “Klea and Yuki are still on the other side.”

  “Nevertheless,” Jamison said, his gesture taking Tamani and David in together, “if we do not take the battle to them, they are sure to bring it back to us eventually.”

  “We have a decent force assembled here. I’ll lead them through,” Tamani said.

  “Let me,” David said softly, raising the sword.

  Tamani hesitated. Laurel could see the war between pride and good sense raging in his eyes. But caution won out; Tamani nodded and began shouting orders to the assembled sentries, who again shouldered their weapons and began to align into formations.

  But Laurel’s eyes were on the gate. She could see the California redwoods through the gateway, the ones that ringed the clearing – which looked empty. Where were the sentries? Or the rest of the trolls? She thought she caught a flash of black leather, but convinced herself she was jumping at shadows.

  Then something small and yellow came rolling through the gate.

  It was immediately swallowed by the earth – Jamison’s doing, Laurel had no doubt – even as several more matching canisters came hissing through the gateway, billowing clouds of sickly green gas that rose and expanded at an unbelievable rate.

  Laurel managed to suck in a breath just before the smoke enveloped her. More canisters came streaming through, and Laurel blinked and squinted against the murk. She watched in horror as Jamison staggered, then collapsed onto the emerald grass alongside his Am Fear-faire. Those sentries still standing watched the Winter faerie fall, then turned in panic to flee the encroaching fog. But it was spreading faster than they could run. Klea’s special recipe, no doubt.

  Fighting the flow of retreating sentries, Laurel spun, trying to find her friends. She caught sight of David, who was standing like a stone in the middle of a raging river of faeries; Excalibur was in his hand and he was staring at it as if to ask, What am I supposed to do now? At the rate the gas was spreading, he had little choice but to run with them. Even with Excalibur, surely he still had to breathe.

  It took Laurel only a moment to realise she could save him.

  The same way she’d saved him once before.

  Laurel rushed to David, grabbing for the front of his blood-soaked shirt. Her hand slipped away, as though she’d grabbed at a ghost; too late, she remembered that as long as he was holding Excalibur, she couldn’t touch him. She felt herself being pushed away by the panicked throng and resisted the urge to cry out.

  And then his hand was on her wrist, and he was pulling her to him. His eyes were hard and his grip on her arm was tight as he placed one hand on the side of her neck, the way he used to do. She could feel his heart racing in his chest as she brought her face close, then pressed her mouth to his.

  Laurel heard a weird sound and opened her eyes to see Chelsea just a few feet away, her hand pressed over her mouth, watching them. Behind Chelsea, Tamani had paused in his task of dragging Jamison’s unconscious form to stare at them in confusion.

  Laurel sucked in a breath and peered around David, catching their eyes. “Breathe!” she commanded, making sure she didn’t let any of the misty air enter her mouth.

  Realisation sparked in Chelsea’s eyes and she spun to Tamani with a smirk. She took a firm grip on his ears and pressed her lips against his.

  And there they stood, four figures abandoned by the living, surrounded by the dead, clinging to one another. From their experience at the bottom of the Chetco, Laurel and David knew that they could share breaths for a long time. If they moved carefully, they could probably escape the smoke no matter how far it had spread. And David could still carry the sword between breaths.

  But what will we do without Jamison?

  Laurel pulled away from David and knelt by Jamison’s side. She put both hands on his chest and – to her surprise – they moved up as the old faerie breathed. Laurel had almost convinced herself it was wishful thinking when he did it again.

  Jamison was alive!

  Laurel turned and grasped at Tamani’s arm. She took his hand and placed it on Jamison’s chest, her eyes fixed meaningfully on his. Tamani’s shoulders slumped in what must have been relief as he understood.

  That meant that the gas wasn’t immediately deadly, and that most of the faeries around them were still alive – but for how much longer?

  The sound of footsteps swishing through the thick grass indicated they didn’t have much time. Laurel paused, peering through the mist. She could only make out shadows, but the hulking forms that were clearly not faeries were all the confirmation Laurel needed. The assault was about to begin again. Whatever this sleeping gas was, it was only intended to give the trolls back the upper hand.

  After a quick pantomimed request for Chelsea’s assistance, Tamani pulled Jamison onto his back and they began dragging him toward the wooden gates at the front of the Garden. As they approached the wall, the smoke thinned, and when they emerged through the heavy wooden entrance, it was into clear, breathable air.

  “Aim!” The call was quiet – the faeries had discovered the trolls and were hoping to catch them off guard.

  With his very first breath, Tamani called, “No arrows!”

  The sentry who was giving orders to the archers atop the garden wall looked down from the battlements. “We can’t fight them in there! We can’t even see them. They’ll breach the walls for sure this time. All we can do is rain arrows from above as fast as we can.”

  “It’s sleeping gas,” Tamani retorted. “Everyone who took a breath of that stuff is helpless but alive; if you fire now – especially blindly – you’ll kill as many faeries as trolls. We need to fall back. Take up a more defensible position.”

  The sentry commander closed her eyes for a moment, her mouth a thin line. “We’ll not abandon our post,” she said. “I’ll figure something out.” She scurried to the nearest archer, clearly moving on to some kind of backup plan.


  Laurel hoped it was a good one.

  “David?”

  Chelsea’s voice was laced with concern, and Laurel turned to see David staring at his free hand – stained red – turning it this way and that. His clothing was equally bloody and he gingerly felt his face, which was streaked the crimson-brown of drying blood.

  “David?” Chelsea repeated as his eyes seemed to lose focus and he put a hand to his forehead.

  He gave no indication that he’d heard anything.

  “David!” Laurel said, as sharply as she dared.

  He looked up this time and Laurel’s stomach turned at the hollow horror in his eyes. “Laurel, I – I don’t—”

  Laurel took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “It’s OK. You’ll be all right,” Laurel said. He must have only now comprehended what he had done. It took a few more seconds, but finally his eyes calmed. Laurel knew he was pushing his dismay away – he’d have to deal with it later – but for now it would have to do. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the sword again and repositioned himself in front of the Garden entrance.

  Laurel turned her attention back to Tamani, who had laid Jamison on the ground and was listening at the old Winter faerie’s lips. “He’s really out. We need to find a way to wake him up.”

  “We have to go to the Academy,” Laurel said. Surely someone there could wake Jamison. Should have brought my kit, she thought ruefully. And then, something else occurred to her. “They don’t know about the immunity! They’ll be helpless if the trolls get through.” Thinking about the damage even one elixir-immune troll would do in the Academy was horrifying enough. Get a whole group in there . . .

  “They’re not the only ones,” Tamani said grimly.

  “We have to go now,” Laurel said, clutching at Tamani’s sleeve. “We need to get to the Academy and warn them! They can wake Jamison, I’m sure of it.”

  “There’s no time!” Tamani growled. “And zero cover. Carrying Jamison uphill, we’d be fruit ripe for the picking for any trolls that come through. Even if we get to the Academy, you’re right – they’re helpless. We can’t risk losing Jamison. He’ll be safest if we take him to Spring. There are sentries there and plenty of ingredients for you to try—”