Illusions
Page 50
“David, what were you thinking?” Tamani demanded. “You totally tipped our hand!”
“It was worth it,” David said, pulling the shirt out from behind his back. “I got this.”
“I somehow think Chelsea would have survived without her shirt,” Tamani said. “Quite frankly, with the way she collects faerie souvenirs, I don’t expect to get my shirt back.”
“You don’t get it,” David shot back. “We’ve been trying to get a sample, right? This is covered in her sap!”
Tamani was speechless for a second. It was so simple, so obvious, so . . .
“Brilliant,” Tamani allowed grudgingly.
David just grinned.
“Mom?” Laurel’s voice was scratchy and weak, but they all heard her.
Her parents rushed to the couch and David leaned over the back of it, his face close to Laurel’s. Tamani forced himself to remain where he was, feeling even more an outsider than he had at the dance, watching Laurel spin in David’s arms.
“How did I get here?” she asked, disoriented.
“We brought you here after the accident,” David said softly.
Laurel lay back, looking a little confused. Her mom squeezed her hand and turned to Tamani. “What exactly happened?” her mom asked. “And none of this ‘we hit a deer’ stuff.”
David looked at Tamani, allowing him to make the call. But Tamani knew it didn’t matter; Laurel would tell them everything anyway. So he took a deep breath and told them the whole story, not leaving anything out.
“And she just collapsed?” Laurel’s mom asked when he finished, her hand soft on Laurel’s face. “Why?”
“I’m not sure,” Laurel answered, her words slow and deliberate. “Everything was over, and I was standing there, and then I had the most excruciating headache ever. I . . . I guess I blacked out.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head in the wreck?”
“I don’t think so,” Laurel said. “It didn’t feel like that. For a second, it was just . . . pain. And a roaring sound in my head. And pressure. Then nothing.”
Her dad looked up at Tamani. “Can trolls do that?”
All Tamani could do was shrug. “I don’t know. It’s never happened before, but I seem to be running into that problem a lot lately.”
“My potion didn’t work on them,” Laurel said. “It should have worked.”
After a moment’s hesitation, David asked, “Did you make it?”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “No,” she said dryly, “I didn’t make it. One of the advanced Fall students made it. I don’t know who.”
“Still, it could have just gone wrong, right?” David pressed.
“Fall potions can always go wrong,” Laurel admitted. She paused, remembering. “Yuki, she was hurt.” She spoke slowly, like even that was effort.
“Yeah,” David said. “Klea came and got her just a couple minutes ago.”
“Klea came here?” Laurel asked, trying to sit up. Her mom helped her, placing an arm around her shoulders. Laurel’s eyes closed for a second, as if she was in danger of losing consciousness again, and Tamani took an involuntary step forward before they opened again.
“There was nothing I could do about that,” David said. “But we gave her as quick an explanation as we could and got them both out of here. She . . . she knows that Chelsea and I know about Yuki. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to say.”
“It’s okay. Klea didn’t tell me not to tell you two. What about Ryan and Chelsea? Where are they?”
David hesitated. “They drove home. Or maybe to the hospital. Well, Chelsea drove Ryan. Wherever they go, his dad will probably check him for a concussion. And we’re probably going to get a lecture for not calling nine-one-one.”
Laurel shrugged. “I can handle a lecture from Ryan’s dad. It’s better than him finding out. So . . . Ryan doesn’t remember anything?”
“Doesn’t seem to.” David sighed. “Lucky for us, he was really disoriented.”
“And for sure he doesn’t remember the trolls?” asked Tamani.
“Not as far as I can tell,” David replied.
“Thank goodness for that. What about Yuki?” Laurel asked.
David looked at Tamani.
“I don’t know,” Tamani admitted. “She seemed pretty disoriented too. I’m not even sure she saw the trolls. But she could easily have been lying for my benefit. Either way, she’s acting like she knows nothing. At least to me.”
“But what—”
“That’s enough now,” Laurel’s mom said, laying her back down again. “You’ve got to stop thinking about everyone else and worry about yourself for a moment. Are you feeling okay?”
Laurel nodded. “Yeah, I am,” she said, and she did look better. She stifled a yawn. “I’m totally exhausted though. I mean, that was the reason we came home in the first place, right?” She laughed shallowly, and even that faded away when no one joined in.
“All right,” her mom said cheerily, “let’s get our girl to bed.”
“There’s one more thing,” Tamani said quickly.
“Not tonight,” David said.
“It might be too late tomorrow,” Tamani hissed.
“Don’t fight!” Laurel said, her tone making Tamani freeze mid-step. He muttered a quick apology and backed away from David.
“It was worth it,” David said, pulling the shirt out from behind his back. “I got this.”
“I somehow think Chelsea would have survived without her shirt,” Tamani said. “Quite frankly, with the way she collects faerie souvenirs, I don’t expect to get my shirt back.”
“You don’t get it,” David shot back. “We’ve been trying to get a sample, right? This is covered in her sap!”
Tamani was speechless for a second. It was so simple, so obvious, so . . .
“Brilliant,” Tamani allowed grudgingly.
David just grinned.
“Mom?” Laurel’s voice was scratchy and weak, but they all heard her.
Her parents rushed to the couch and David leaned over the back of it, his face close to Laurel’s. Tamani forced himself to remain where he was, feeling even more an outsider than he had at the dance, watching Laurel spin in David’s arms.
“How did I get here?” she asked, disoriented.
“We brought you here after the accident,” David said softly.
Laurel lay back, looking a little confused. Her mom squeezed her hand and turned to Tamani. “What exactly happened?” her mom asked. “And none of this ‘we hit a deer’ stuff.”
David looked at Tamani, allowing him to make the call. But Tamani knew it didn’t matter; Laurel would tell them everything anyway. So he took a deep breath and told them the whole story, not leaving anything out.
“And she just collapsed?” Laurel’s mom asked when he finished, her hand soft on Laurel’s face. “Why?”
“I’m not sure,” Laurel answered, her words slow and deliberate. “Everything was over, and I was standing there, and then I had the most excruciating headache ever. I . . . I guess I blacked out.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head in the wreck?”
“I don’t think so,” Laurel said. “It didn’t feel like that. For a second, it was just . . . pain. And a roaring sound in my head. And pressure. Then nothing.”
Her dad looked up at Tamani. “Can trolls do that?”
All Tamani could do was shrug. “I don’t know. It’s never happened before, but I seem to be running into that problem a lot lately.”
“My potion didn’t work on them,” Laurel said. “It should have worked.”
After a moment’s hesitation, David asked, “Did you make it?”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “No,” she said dryly, “I didn’t make it. One of the advanced Fall students made it. I don’t know who.”
“Still, it could have just gone wrong, right?” David pressed.
“Fall potions can always go wrong,” Laurel admitted. She paused, remembering. “Yuki, she was hurt.” She spoke slowly, like even that was effort.
“Yeah,” David said. “Klea came and got her just a couple minutes ago.”
“Klea came here?” Laurel asked, trying to sit up. Her mom helped her, placing an arm around her shoulders. Laurel’s eyes closed for a second, as if she was in danger of losing consciousness again, and Tamani took an involuntary step forward before they opened again.
“There was nothing I could do about that,” David said. “But we gave her as quick an explanation as we could and got them both out of here. She . . . she knows that Chelsea and I know about Yuki. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to say.”
“It’s okay. Klea didn’t tell me not to tell you two. What about Ryan and Chelsea? Where are they?”
David hesitated. “They drove home. Or maybe to the hospital. Well, Chelsea drove Ryan. Wherever they go, his dad will probably check him for a concussion. And we’re probably going to get a lecture for not calling nine-one-one.”
Laurel shrugged. “I can handle a lecture from Ryan’s dad. It’s better than him finding out. So . . . Ryan doesn’t remember anything?”
“Doesn’t seem to.” David sighed. “Lucky for us, he was really disoriented.”
“And for sure he doesn’t remember the trolls?” asked Tamani.
“Not as far as I can tell,” David replied.
“Thank goodness for that. What about Yuki?” Laurel asked.
David looked at Tamani.
“I don’t know,” Tamani admitted. “She seemed pretty disoriented too. I’m not even sure she saw the trolls. But she could easily have been lying for my benefit. Either way, she’s acting like she knows nothing. At least to me.”
“But what—”
“That’s enough now,” Laurel’s mom said, laying her back down again. “You’ve got to stop thinking about everyone else and worry about yourself for a moment. Are you feeling okay?”
Laurel nodded. “Yeah, I am,” she said, and she did look better. She stifled a yawn. “I’m totally exhausted though. I mean, that was the reason we came home in the first place, right?” She laughed shallowly, and even that faded away when no one joined in.
“All right,” her mom said cheerily, “let’s get our girl to bed.”
“There’s one more thing,” Tamani said quickly.
“Not tonight,” David said.
“It might be too late tomorrow,” Tamani hissed.
“Don’t fight!” Laurel said, her tone making Tamani freeze mid-step. He muttered a quick apology and backed away from David.
