All around them clustered many Springs and Summers, some swathed in bandages or exhibiting cuts and scrapes from the previous day’s battles – and even here, a few Mixers were plying their trade, treating the wounded who were in need of care but who had presumably refused to miss the spectacle anyway. A murmur of conversation that was both excited and angry buzzed through the Gate Garden and electrified the air.

In the centre of it all glittered the four-sided gates of gold, their tiny flowers twinkling warmly in the morning light.

“We’re leaving,” Tamani said to Jamison, not even acknowledging his Queen’s presence.

“I don’t think so,” Marion said, rising to her feet. “I have already made my decree – if Jamison or Yasmine open that gate, it will be an act of treason punishable by death.”

The milling faeries breathed a collective gasp.

“You’ve gathered quite a crowd,” Marion added. “Did you think to intimidate me with their presence?”

“Not at all,” Tamani said. His tone was casual, but Laurel could feel that his body was tense. “I wanted them all to hear for themselves the words of their Queen on this matter.”

“I am not accustomed to making appearances for your amusement.” Marion scowled. “Gate guards, do your duty. Clear the Garden; this audience is at an end.”

From somewhere in the crowd, the gate guard’s captain emerged with four other sentries. They looked like they’d crawled through hell on their bellies; they were still in the armour they’d been wearing yesterday and blood caked their hands. Laurel realised it was they who had cleared the fallen trolls – and their fallen friends – from the Garden. They must have been at it all night.

“I apologise, Your Grace,” said the captain, her voice gravelly. “We are too few.”

Marion’s eyes were wide with shock. For a moment Laurel wondered whether the Queen could actually be ignorant of the number of sentries who had died protecting the gates.

“You will do as I command or I will strip you of your duties,” she said at last, and Laurel realised that what had actually surprised her was that someone had told her no.

With a bow, the gate captain drew a gleaming, long-handled sword from the scabbard at her waist. The sentries behind her did the same, and for a moment Laurel feared they were going to turn their weapons against the gathered audience. She felt her fingers digging into Tamani’s arm; she didn’t think she could handle another day of fighting.

The captain held up her sword, crossed in front of Laurel’s face and met Tamani’s eyes – steely glare for steely glare.

Then she threw her sword on to the ground and stretched out her arm, beckoning for them to pass. The rest of the sentries stepped back into a short line and dropped their weapons as well.

Marion was too angry to speak, but it hardly mattered; anything she might have said would have been drowned out by the cacophonous cheering of the crowd. When at last she found her tongue, she addressed Jamison and Yasmine.

“Stop them,” she said. “I command you. Take them into custody.”

“No,” Yasmine said, rising to her feet.

“Excuse me?” Marion said, turning to face the young faerie whose head barely reached her shoulder.

Yasmine raised one eyebrow and stepped up on to the stone bench so her eyes were even with the Queen’s. “I said no,” Yasmine repeated, but loud enough that the legions of ‘lower’ fae who had gathered could hear her. “If you want them stopped, you will have to do it yourself – and somehow, I don’t think that will win you any supporters here today.”

“Tam,” Jamison said, stepping forwards. “Let me do you this final kindness. I don’t mind dying, not for someone as noble as any one of you, much less all four.”

“No,” Tamani said firmly. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.” He raised his voice and addressed the entire crowd. “There has been far too much death here in Avalon already. No one else is dying for me.” He glared at Marion. “Not today.”

“You are preserving Jamison’s life in exchange for your freedom?” Marion said, but she sounded suspicious.

Before Jamison could respond, Tamani bent at the waist in front of the elderly Winter faerie. “I think it’s time I fully take up my role as Laurel’s Fear-gleidhidh and resign my station at the gate and as a sentry.”

Jamison nodded, but he was eyeing Tamani warily.

Tamani returned Jamison’s probing gaze for several seconds before gathering the old faerie up in his arms. “I know this is likely goodbye,” Tamani said. “So thank you, for everything.”

Chelsea was still holding on to David’s arm on one side and Laurel’s on the other, but Laurel pulled away to step forwards and wrap her arms around Jamison too, beginning to believe she really might never see him again – whatever trick Tamani had up his sleeve, he seemed pretty sure of himself. She tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter. Jamison understood.

“As for you,” Tamani said, looking up at Marion, who stood with venom in her eyes, “I suspect your days as Queen are numbered.”

Marion opened her mouth, but Tamani spun away, leading Laurel, David, and Chelsea to the gate.

“I wasn’t finished,” Marion said shrilly, her tight control broken.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Tamani said without turning round.

They had taken three steps when they heard Marion’s growl of rage and Laurel turned to see enormous branches flying at them like deadly spears.