Jamison was silent for a spell, then said, “I do not know that I will still be here when you next return to Avalon.”

“Jamison—”

“Please,” Jamison interrupted, his face almost unfamiliar in its seriousness. “This is important. So very, very important.” He paused and glanced around conspiratorially, then took both Laurel’s hands in his and met her eyes. “It has been more than fifty years since we first decided to place a scion in the human world and began putting our plan into action. I was reluctant. I did not think the timing was right. Cora was ready to wilt and I could see the kind of queen Marion was going to be. But I was outvoted. Then one day, many years later, they brought us a new Winter faerie, fresh from her sprout.”

Jamison laid a fatherly arm round Yasmine and she smiled up at him.

“I looked down at this tiny Winter faerie – one who was doomed to never rule, as she was too close to Marion’s age – and I thought of the potential in her that would be wasted. Just like Callista. And I knew at that moment that I could not let that happen again. Days later, they brought in the final two candidates for the human scion.”

“Mara and me?” Laurel asked, and Jamison nodded.

“I realised I knew one of the young Mixers. I had seen her often when I was in the Academy, watching the Gardener care for the Winter sprout. This little Mixer was best friends with the Gardener’s son.”

“Tamani,” Laurel whispered.

“And I realied that perhaps this was the answer. A scion – a good, kind scion with someone in Avalon who loved her, truly loved her, someone who could be her anchor, who could keep her coming back to our realm.

“But not empty-handed. I needed a scion who would not look down on humans, but who would love them – a scion who would reject traditions and prejudices so difficult to unlearn that I could not even trust a memory elixir to erase them. And what if this scion could show the fae of Avalon that there was another way? Might she prove a worthy adviser to the throne? Would it be possible to conduct a peaceful revolution – to bring new glory, a new way of life to our realm?”

“Jamison!” Laurel gasped.

“And while this scion was learning another way, I could teach that tiny Winter faerie to respect all the faeries in Avalon, not just those with power. And maybe, just maybe, when the time was right, she would have a chance to rule – a chance to make Avalon the place I always secretly dreamed it could be.”

“You planned this!” Laurel said breathlessly, trying to grasp the scope of Jamison’s involvement. “You picked me, you helped Tamani, you planned everything!”

“Not everything. Not this,” Jamison said, gesturing to the evidence of the destruction that surrounded them. “Never this. But after Callista was exiled, I had to do something. I had to start a change. It is our secret,” Jamison said, sobering as he looked down at Yasmine, then back at Laurel. “And now it is yours too. Move slowly, my no-longer-so-little sprout. The best, most lasting changes are those which come about gradually; to reach great heights, a tree must first put down extensive roots. But I promise you this, when it’s time – when Avalon is prepared and when you’re ready to join us here – Yasmine will be ready. Then we can have a true revolution. A peaceful one; one with the support of all the Avalon faeries behind it. And with you and Yasmine working together, Avalon can finally be everything we’ve always hoped it could be.”

Her eyes wide, Laurel looked down at Yasmine, seeing all the goodness Laurel had always loved in Jamsion shining in this young faerie’s eyes.

Avalon’s future, Laurel realised, and her face broke into a smile. She looked at them both and nodded, silently joining their secret crusade.

They began walking again as Laurel tried to comprehend everything Jamison had done – the seeds he had planted, literally and figuratively, and the harvest he had planned even though he knew he would not live to see it. When they reached the gate Laurel numbly helped Jamison sit on the little stone bench inside the shattered doors to the Garden, Yasmine beside him, their Am Fear-faire standing at attention on all sides.

“I – I’ll be back,” Laurel murmured, needing a few minutes to digest everything.

With David at her heels, Laurel passed back out through the entrance and walked a way before putting her back against the stone wall and sliding down to the ground.

“I can’t believe he had everything planned,” she said softly.

“And now he’ll die to see it through,” David said, joining her on the ground. “To make sure we get out.”

But Laurel shook her head. “Tamani will think of something.”

“I hope so.”

They were silent for a long time as the sun started to peek over the horizon and a cool breeze tousled Laurel’s hair. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry you got stuck with the sword.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, then I’m sorry you were put in a position where you had to kill so many trolls.”

He didn’t respond, but she knew how tormented he must be on the inside.

“It was – it was great, though. You really saved the day. You’re my hero,” she added, hoping he would warm to the praise.

But David didn’t crack a smile. “You can’t even imagine what it feels like to take hold of that sword.” He shrugged. “Actually, maybe you can. Maybe this is what it feels like when you do magic.”