Spells

FOURTEEN

BY ELEVEN LAUREL WAS THOROUGHLY EXHAUSTED from dancing and the rather distinct lack of sunlight. She smiled in relief when David elbowed his way through the crowd and brought her a plastic cup with some kind of red punch in it.

“Thank you,” Laurel said, taking it from him. “Seriously, I am parched and exhausted.”

“Your knight in shining armor comes through again,” David said.

She brought the cup up to her mouth, then made a face. “Yuck. Someone totally spiked this.”

“Really? What is this, a fifties sitcom?”

“No kidding.” Laurel couldn’t even sit at the same table with her parents when they had wine without growing nauseated. The smell of any kind of alcohol made her queasy.

“Well, I guess I’ll do my date-ly duty and drink them both,” David said, taking Laurel’s cup from her.

“David!”

“What?” he said after taking a long swallow.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “I’m driving home.”

“Fine with me,” David said, after taking another drink. “Means I can go back for seconds.”

“You’re going to get totally sloshed.”

“Oh, please. My mom serves wine with dinner at least once a week.”

“Does she really?”

David grinned.

“Give me that,” Laurel said, taking her cup back.

“Why? You can’t drink it.”

“I most certainly can,” she said, reaching into her purse for a small bottle she had taken from her Fall faerie kit.

“What is that?” David asked, scooting close to her.

“Water purifier,” Laurel said, squeezing one clear drop into her cup and swirling the contents gently.

“Did you make that?”

“I wish,” Laurel said darkly. “They gave it to me at the Academy.”

Laurel looked down into her cup. The red punch had turned clear. “Huh,” she said. “I guess the dye is considered an impurity as well.”

David tilted the cup in his direction and sniffed. “You know, most people pay to add alcohol to their beverage, not the other way around.”

“I march to my own beat.”

“So what have you got left? Sugar water?”

Laurel shrugged and took a sip. “Yeah, basically.”

“Appetizing as that sounds, I think I’m going to grab my refill at the punch bowl, thank you.”

“Lush,” Laurel called teasingly after him.

She wandered into an empty hallway with her cup of sugar water. It was nice to get away from the stifling crowds. If she were being completely honest with herself, she was ready to go home and go to bed. There was at least another hour — probably two to three — of the party left and she knew David would want to stay for the whole thing.

Still, she could tough it out for one more hour. Probably.

She wandered over to a long, tall window between two matching paintings of ballerinas and leaned her forehead against the cool surface as she looked out at the night sky. A flicker of movement outside the window caught Laurel’s eye. A dark shape, barely illuminated by the glow from inside the house, moved again. She focused on it, trying to make out what it was. Could it be an animal? A dog, maybe? It seemed too big for that. It was standing halfway in the shadow of a large tree that kept her from discerning more than an outline. Then it lifted its head, and the dim beam illuminated a pale, deformed face with grotesque clarity. Laurel threw herself back from the pane, her chest tight and her breathing rapid. After slowly counting to ten she peeked around the sill again.

It was gone.

Its absence was almost as formidable as its presence, as if a hole in the light itself sat empty where the monster had been.

Did I imagine it? Her hands were still shaking as she pictured the mismatched face — one eye more than an inch lower than the other, a twisted snarl of a mouth, an impossibly crooked nose. No, she’d seen it.

Fear clutched at her chest. She had to find David.

Forcing herself to remain composed, Laurel moved from room to room, looking. Panic welled up inside her as she seemed to find everyone but him. Finally, she spotted him in the corner of the kitchen with a snack in one hand and a cup in the other, talking with a bunch of guys. She walked up to him, feigning calmness. “Can I talk to you?” she asked with a tight smile, leading him a few feet away from the crowd. She leaned in close to his ear. “There’s a troll outside,” she said, her voice shaky.

David’s smile disappeared. “Are you sure? I mean, we’ve both been pretty jumpy. But we haven’t seen an actual troll in months.”

Laurel shook her head almost convulsively. “No, I saw it. It’s not a mistake. It’s here for me. Ah!” She groaned softly. “How could I be so stupid?”

“Wait, wait,” David said, his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t know that it’s here for you. Why would they attack you now, all of a sudden? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does. Jamison told me this would happen. And it has!” Her hands shook, and words kept spilling out of her mouth as her fear grew. “I’ve been so careful, and the one night I let my guard down, they’re there. Just like Jamison said. They must have been watching — waiting for me to forget my kit. I’m the fly, David. I’m the stupid, stupid fly!”

“What fly? Laurel, you’ve got to calm down. You’re not making any sense. You don’t have your kit?”

“No! I don’t! That’s the problem. I threw a couple of basics in my purse and I meant to bring my backpack and leave it in your car, but I totally forgot.”

“Okay,” David said, pulling her farther from the crowd. “Let’s just think about this for a moment. What have you got on you?”

“I have two monastuolo serums. They put trolls to sleep.”

“Perfect, then we should be fine.”

Laurel shook her head. “They only work in an enclosed space and they don’t work instantly. It’s for escape scenarios, not like this. If a troll got in the house, half of these kids would be dead before the serum even started to work.”

David took a deep breath. “So what do we do?”

“They want me, but they’ll kill everyone else in a heartbeat if they think it will do any good. We have to lure him away, and we have to do it fast.”

“Lure him where?”

“My house,” Laurel said, hating the idea. “My house is safe. It’s warded against trolls, and the sentries are there. It’s the safest place in the world for us right now.”

“But—”

“David, we don’t have time to argue.”

David set his jaw. “Okay. I trust you. Let’s get out of here.” He pulled his keys from his pocket.

“I’m driving.”

“Believe me, Laurel, I’m feeling very sober.”

“I don’t care. Give me your keys.”

“Fine. What do I tell Chelsea?”

“I’m feeling sick. Something I ate. She knows my stomach’s weird.”

“Okay.”

They spotted Chelsea and Ryan, dancing to a slow song. Chelsea’s head rested on Ryan’s shoulder, and he held her tight against his chest.

“Let’s just go,” Laurel said. “I don’t want to interrupt this.”

David hesitated. “You know Chelsea. She’ll worry if we’re just gone.” He turned to look at Laurel. “She might even stop by your house on her way home from the party to check on you.”

“You’re right. I’ll go tell her.”

Laurel felt bad butting in, but there was nothing else to be done. She apologized profusely and assured Chelsea three times that she didn’t need anything but to go home and rest.

Chelsea smiled and threw her arms around Laurel. “Thanks so much for coming. I’ll see you guys later.”

Hugging Chelsea back, Laurel desperately hoped she could get the trolls to follow her. She would regret this night for the rest of her life if anything happened to Chelsea — or any of the other people at the party.

David took Laurel’s hand and they headed toward the kitchen. “The side door is closest to my car,” David said, pointing, “but it’s still going to be a bit of a run.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

They stood at the kitchen door for a few seconds and David tucked Laurel tightly under his arm. After pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he asked, “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They both took a few deep breaths, then David grabbed Laurel’s hand and pushed the door open. “Go!” he commanded in a hissing whisper.

Hand in hand they ran toward David’s Civic, about fifty feet away. They ducked around several cars before throwing open the doors and jumping into their seats. “Do you think he saw us?” she asked as she shoved the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t leave if they didn’t see us.”

“Well, what do you propose we do?” David asked, peering out his window into the darkness.

Laurel took a quick breath, hardly daring to even think about what she was about to do. Before she could change her mind she slipped out of the driver’s seat and jumped up and down, waving her arms. “Hey! You looking for me?”

A dark shape rose up twenty feet in front of them. Laurel gasped and threw herself back into the car and shoved the gearshift into reverse. The troll rushed forward, its navy coveralls and fearsome visage illuminated by the Civic’s headlights. It slammed its hands down on the hood of the car just as the stick shift popped into place.

“Go, go, go!” David screamed.

Laurel slammed one foot on the gas and popped her other off the clutch so fast the car shot backward, almost hitting the truck parked behind them. The troll stumbled into the spot where the car had just been, but it was already getting to its feet. Laurel shoved the stick into first gear and peeled out of the driveway. David was twisted around in his seat, staring out the back window.

“David!” Laurel shouted. “Watch for cars for me. I can’t stop at the stop sign up here.”

David turned forward and peered into the darkness in both directions. As they approached the intersection Laurel’s foot hovered over the brake.

“You’re all clear. Go!”

Laurel pressed on the gas, carrying the car through the intersection. She stepped hard on the brake as she turned off the road that led to Ryan’s house and onto Pebble Beach Drive. The car skidded and the tires protested noisily, but Laurel managed to keep the headlights facing the right direction.

“It just came around the corner,” David said when they were less than ten seconds up the road. “It’s wicked fast.”

“The speed limit’s thirty-five here. How fast can I get away with going?” Laurel asked, the needle on the speedometer already creeping toward forty-five.

“Cops are the least of our worries tonight,” David said. “You can just — Laurel, look out!”

A menacing shape darted in front of them, stopping in the middle of the road. Laurel slammed on the brakes and the car slid over the pavement as she fought to keep control. They skidded, barely missing the large animal — a troll, surely — and slid off the shoulder into a crumbling ditch on the other side. The car lurched to a stop, its wheels spinning uselessly in the mud and gravel.

David groaned as he tried to right himself after being thrown against the dash. Laurel peered into the darkness but couldn’t make anything out. Then her eyes focused on the jagged outline of the forest’s edge, only a hundred yards away. “The trees, David,” Laurel said urgently. “We have to run for the trees.”

“I don’t know if I can run,” David said. “My knees got hit really hard!”

“You can do it, David,” Laurel said desperately. “You have to. Let’s go!” She threw the door open and dragged David out behind her. After a few wobbly steps he managed to find his bearings and they ran, hand in hand, toward the forest.

“He’s going to smell me,” David said. “My left knee is bleeding.”

“You’re no worse off than me,” Laurel said. “He’ll totally smell my blossom. We stick together. No arguing.” Suddenly she realized her mistake — the trolls must be making their move because she had blossomed. There was no way she could evade them, not when they could track her inescapable scent. She hated that she’d so easily let down her guard. She’d let this happen.

As they ran, Laurel dug into her purse and pulled out a set of vials that would make the monastuolo serum when crushed together. She knew it wouldn’t be very effective in the open air, but she had to try something; maybe it would slow them down. Her sash loosened and her blossom slipped free as she and David tore through the bushes, but she wasn’t about to stop to fix it; she could hear one troll behind them and another approaching from their right. David stumbled, betrayed by his injured knee, and the troll behind them growled and sprang. A stabbing pain shot up Laurel’s back from her blossom. Biting off a scream, she whirled and, with an open palm, smashed the monastuolo vials against the troll’s forehead. He reeled back, howling in pain, enormous hands clapped to his face. Laurel leaped away, her back throbbing so badly a sob built in her throat and she fought to quell a wave of nausea.

Her legs ached almost unbearably when they reached the tree line at the top of the hill. “Come on, David,” she urged.

They stumbled into the forest, branches clinging to their clothes and whipping against their skin, scratching their faces. When they reached a small break in the trees they jolted to a stop, turning in circles.

“Which way?” David asked.

A low growl sounded from one side of the clearing.

“That way,” Laurel said, pointing away from the sound. But even as she pointed, another growl sounded from the other side. They spun again, only to be confronted by the shadowy silhouette of a third troll, his warm breath steamy in the brisk autumn air.

David pulled Laurel back against his chest, crushing her blossom painfully between them. They tried to keep their eyes on the trolls as they circled, but the creatures were too fast, whirling around, then switching directions and spinning the other way, circling them like sharks.

The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air, and the flash of a knife glinted in the moonlight. Laurel felt David’s breath catch in his chest.

David squeezed Laurel in a quick hug, then stepped away with his hands raised. “I give up,” he called loudly. “Take me and let her go. She’s harmless.”

Laurel gasped and grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to pull him back, but he continued walking forward.

Raucous laughter filled the air. “Harmless?” a harsh, gravelly voice said. “How stupid do you think we are, human? If anyone is going to live tonight, it is not going to be her.”

Before David could get back to Laurel, two trolls stepped between them. One was taller than David, his broad shoulders straining his faded coveralls. The other was hunchbacked, her hair long and stringy, and even in the moonlight Laurel could see that her bone-white skin was cracked and bleeding at the joints. Laurel forced herself not to squeeze her eyes shut as the tall troll closed in on her, knife raised.