“She’s not Callista anymore,” Yuki said evenly, hardly sparing them a glance, her attention riveted on Jamison.

While David held Klea’s guards at bay, Laurel looked over at Yuki’s back and for a moment wondered if she could tackle her from behind. She glanced at Jamison, but he shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

“She will always be Callista to me. Do you know why?” Jamison said, his eyes on Yuki again.

Yuki hesitated, but Jamison didn’t wait for her to reply.

“Because Callista was well intentioned and full of hopes and dreams and, above all, brilliance,” Jamison says. “And I want to remember that – not the creature she has become.”

“You made that creature. And that creature made me.” One of the trees lining the road – thankfully, not the one where Chelsea had concealed herself – bent in two, shattering with a thunderous crack and falling, unnaturally fast, towards Jamison.

“Thank you, my dear,” Jamison said with a sigh as the tree trunk flew over his head. “I do need to sit down.” The mighty trunk crashed across what remained of the road to the palace, before coming to a stop right behind Jamison’s knees. He lowered himself on to it with a quiet groan. “I confess, Laurel and Rhoslyn were only able to throw off the barest portion of the potion’s effect. I am conscious, but only just.”

Yuki’s face screwed up in anger and she stretched her arms wide, swishing them forward. Laurel had to grab on to one of the trees beside her to keep from being swept away by the tornado of plant life that spun wildly around the two Winter faeries, sequestering them.

Laurel squinted against the haze of branches and leaves, but she couldn’t see anything through the artificial storm. The wind from the cyclone forced Tamani and Klea to the ground; Tamani appeared to have lost his spear again, and now the two were grappling, unarmed. Actually Laurel couldn’t tell if they were still fighting or just using one another as counterweights against the gale. David kept to his feet, braced against the wind; the debris that bounced harmlessly away from him scattered Klea’s mindless faerie guards on to the grass. David had to back up and sweep his sword at several to get them all together again in an exercise not unlike herding cats.

The whirlwind settled as abruptly as it had begun and neither Jamison nor Yuki appeared to have been affected by it in the slightest. With a strangled yell Yuki wove her arms in front of her and again a tangle of roots burst from the ground, lashing out to besiege Jamison.

But Jamison simply fixed the ground with a stare and the roots withered away. “I wanted Callista to stay – to mould her passion and intellect into a mighty force for Avalon’s good.”

“Avalon’s good? You’d have made her into a puppet!”

“Instead, she made you into one.”

Yuki gasped, her mouth opening and closing for a few seconds before she spoke. “I am not a puppet,” she said, but her voice betrayed the tiniest tremble.

“Aren’t you?” he asked. “Then stop this. Walk away from this pointless struggle. Go to Tamani and tell him you love him. After all, isn’t that what you really want to do?”

Tamani’s head shot up in surprise and Klea took the opportunity to twist his injured arm behind him. He cried out in pain, but kicked backwards against a fallen limb with both legs, sending both of them sprawling.

Yuki’s jaw shook at Jamison’s words and tears sparkled in her eyes. “A true hero puts others first,” she choked out.

“A true hero knows love is more powerful than hate.”

She shook her head. “I love Klea – she’s my mother.”

“You don’t love Klea; you fear her,” Jamison said. “And she’s not your mother.”

“She made me.”

“Making you doesn’t make you a mother. Laurel’s mother didn’t make her – but she loves her.”

Laurel felt a burst of pride for her human parents.

“Does Klea love you?” Jamison asked, so softly Laurel barely caught the words.

“Yuki!” Klea called desperately, but Tamani wrapped his arm across her mouth. Judging by his pained expression, she bit him for it.

“Of course,” Yuki said, a tremble in her voice.

“If you walked away from me, from Klea’s plan, from everything, right now – would Klea still love you?”

In answer Yuki put two hands up and thrust them forwards as if pushing against an invisible barrier, and a wave of grass and earth moved forwards to crush Jamison where he sat.

Jamison’s face looked haggard and worn as he glared at the wave of earth, bringing it to a standstill with hardly a gesture.

Yuki screamed, a bitter, frustrated scream that pierced the evening air. The wave rippled again, slowly – so slowly.

Then faster.

Then it was rolling like an ocean wave and Laurel gasped in fear as it reached the trunk where Jamison was sitting.

The wave of earth and grass parted, rolling past Jamison, chewing both ends off the fallen tree. Jamison still sat on what was left of the oak log, breathing heavily but unharmed. “I wronged Callista, but not in the way she believes.”

“How can there be any other way?” Yuki asked. “You lied to her, got her to trust you, and promised you’d defend her. But you didn’t. You betrayed her and voted to have her exiled.”

Klea’s head jerked up and she stilled at these words, ceasing to thrash in Tamani’s arms, where he had twisted her into a headlock.