Laurel gazed at the shards of glass littering the kitchen floor. Her eyes settled on the large rock that must have come through the window.
A piece of paper was wrapped around it.
Laurel reached out with trembling hands and unwrapped the paper. Her breath caught in her chest as she read the bright red scrawl.
In an instant she was on her feet, running for the front door. As she threw the door open she paused, peering out into her front yard. It looked calm — serene even — under the glow of the streetlights. Laurel studied every shadowed form, looking for tiny shivers of movement.
Everything stood still.
She looked at her car, and back down at the paper in her hand. Tamani was right — she kept trying to do everything on her own. It was time to admit she needed help. She turned and began running, not to her car, but to the tree line behind her house. She paused at the edge of the forest, not sure how far the warding reached. After a moment’s hesitation she started to shout. “Help! Please! I need your help!”
She ran along the tree line to the other side of the yard, shouting her pleas over and over. But she heard nothing except her own words echoing back at her. “Please!” she shouted one more time, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer.
The sentries were gone. She didn’t know where or when, but if a single faerie had been in those woods, she felt certain they would have answered her call. She was alone.
Desperation coursed through her and she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, forcing herself not to cry. The last thing she could afford to do was fall to pieces. She ran to her car, sliding into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door shut. She stared at her dark, empty house. It had protected her for months; even before she knew about the sentries and the powerful wards. But she couldn’t stay. She had to leave the protection of the wards. She knew it was what the trolls wanted. But she didn’t have a choice; there was too much at risk. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to jam the key into the ignition and start the engine, peeling out backward, her tires spinning on the asphalt as she jerked the car into first gear and kept a wary eye on her rearview mirror.
Driving the half mile to David’s house felt like it took hours. Laurel pulled up in front and studied the familiar structure that was practically a second home to her.
She felt like a stranger now.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she got out of the car and sprinted up the front walk. She heard the front bell reverberate through the living room and tried to remember when she had last rung the doorbell at David’s. It seemed so formal, so unnecessary.
David’s mom answered the door. “Laurel,” she said cheerfully. But her smile died away when she saw Laurel’s face. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“Can I see David?”
David’s mom looked confused. “Of course, come in.”
“I’ll stay out here, thanks,” Laurel murmured, her eyes aimed at the ground.
“Okay,” David’s mom said hesitantly. “I’ll go get him.”
It was a long wait before the door opened again. Laurel looked up — afraid it would only be David’s mom. But it was David, his face stony, eyes flashing. He paused, took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Don’t do this, Laurel. I’m only here because my mom’s home and she doesn’t know what happened yet. But you need to—”
“Barnes has Chelsea.”
The anger drained instantly from David’s eyes. “What!”
Laurel handed over the note. “At the lighthouse. I know you’re mad at me but—” Her voice cut off, her breathing sharp and painful, but she forced her fear back. “This is bigger than us. Bigger than this. I need you, David. I can’t do this alone.”
“What about your sentries?” David asked, wary.
“They’re not there! I called for them. They’re gone.”
David hesitated, then nodded and ducked back into the house. She heard him yell something to his mom, then he was back on the porch, lugging his backpack as he pulled his jacket on. “Let’s go.”
“Will you drive?” Laurel asked. “I have…something I have to do.”
After grabbing her own backpack from her car, Laurel joined David in his car.
“We have to go get Tamani,” David said, his voice hard.
Laurel was already shaking her head.
“Laurel, I don’t care about you and him right now. He’s our best chance!”
“It’s not that; we don’t have time. If I’m not at the lighthouse by nine, he’s going to kill Chelsea. We have”—Laurel glanced at her car’s clock—“twenty-five minutes.”
“Then you go to the lighthouse and I’ll drive out to the land and bring him back.”
“There’s not time, David!”
“Then what!” he yelled, his frustrated voice filling the car.
“I can do this,” Laurel said, hoping she was telling the truth. “But first I have to stop by my mom’s store.”
Laurel banged on the front doors of Nature’s Cure until her mom came out of the back room, where she always did her closing paperwork. “Laurel, what in the wo—”
“Mom, I need dried sassafras root, organic hibiscus seeds, and ylang-ylang essential oil fixed in water instead of alcohol. I need them right now and I need you to not ask questions.”
“Laurel—”
“I don’t have a single minute to waste, Mom. I promise I will tell you everything—everything—when I get home, but right now I beg you to please just trust me.”
“But where are you—”
“Mom,” Laurel said, grabbing both her mother’s hands. “Please listen. Really listen. There’s more to being a faerie than just having a flower on my back. Faeries have enemies. Powerful enemies, and if I don’t get these ingredients from you and go take care of them right now, people are going to die. Help me. I need you to help me,” she pleaded.
Her mom stood confused for a moment before nodding slowly. “I take it this isn’t something for regular old human police?”
Tears welled up in Laurel’s eyes; she didn’t even know what to say. She didn’t have time to argue.
“Okay,” her mom said determinedly, walking down an aisle and peering at the small bottles that lined both sides. She quickly plucked the ingredients from the shelves and handed them to Laurel.
“Thanks,” Laurel said, and started to turn.
Her mom stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. Laurel turned as her mom gathered her into her arms, hugging her tight. “I love you,” she whispered. “Please be careful.”
Laurel nodded against her shoulder. “I love you too.” She paused, then added, “And if anything happens, do not sell the land, promise?”
Her mother’s eyes filled with fear. “What do you mean?”
But Laurel couldn’t stop. She tried not to hear the desperation in her mom’s voice as she followed her to the door. “Laurel?”
Laurel was already out the door and slipping into David’s car. “Go,” she commanded, trying to block out her mother’s last yell.
“Laurel!”
Laurel looked back, her eyes fixed on her mother’s white face as her father burst out of the bookstore, both her parents staring at the car as it drove away.
“DID YOU GET WHAT YOU NEEDED?” DAVID ASKED as he headed toward the Battery Point Lighthouse.
“I got it,” Laurel said, already pulling out her mortar and pestle.
“What are you making?”
“You just drive, and we’ll see if I can avoid blowing up your car, okay?”
“Ooookay,” David said, sounding less than confident. They drove silently, the scraping of Laurel’s pestle playing a sinister duet with David’s tires humming against the asphalt. They drove to the south side of Crescent City and the clock on the dashboard marched inexorably forward.