Illusions by Aprilynne Pike

it up and talking. That’s what I did.”
    Tamani sighed, then reached out and punched Shar in the shoulder. Shar didn’t even move, much less flinch. “There’s not even anything to remember! It tells you right on the screen what to do. Let’s try it again,” Tamani said, reaching into his pocket.
    â€œNo point in that,” Shar said moodily, his eyes darting toward Laurel. “I can hear you now.” He turned and walked down the path. “Best get out of sight. Would be our luck that after six months with no trolls, one would wander by as we’re standing out in the open, gawking at human trinkets.”
    Tamani stood for a few seconds, phone in hand, then shoved his hands in his pockets and tromped after Shar, looking back with a shrug to make sure Laurel was following. But Laurel could see the relief in his eyes.
    About ten feet into the woods, Shar drew abruptly to a halt. “So why are you here?” he asked, his face serious, playful demeanor gone. “The plan was never for you to bounce back and forth. You are supposed to maintain your post in the human world.”
    Tamani sobered as well. “The situation has changed. The Huntress enrolled a faerie at Laurel’s school.”
    Shar’s eyebrow twitched; a big reaction, from him. “The Huntress is back?”
    Tamani nodded.
    â€œAnd she has a faerie with her. How is that even possible?”
    â€œI don’t know. Supposedly, Klea’s people found her in Japan, where she was raised by human parents. We don’t know what she’s capable of, if anything.” Tamani’s eyes darted to Laurel. “I told Laurel about the toxin. The wild faerie—Yuki—looks too young to have made something like that, but who could say for sure?”
    Shar’s eyes narrowed. “How young does she look?”
    â€œYounger than thirty. Older than ten. You know it would be impossible to say for sure. But from what I’ve observed of her behavior, she could be within a year or two of Laurel’s age.”
    Laurel hadn’t even considered that. She knew faeries aged differently from humans, but the differences were most pronounced in very young faeries—like Tamani’s niece, Rowen—and middle-aged faeries, who might spend a century looking like a human in the prime of life. Yuki didn’t look out of place at Del Norte, but that only meant she was at least as old as her classmates.
    Shar was frowning thoughtfully, but asked no further questions.
    â€œNow that I know your sorry pulp isn’t crushed to death under some troll’s boot, we need to see Jamison,” said Tamani. “He’ll know what to do.”
    â€œWe do not just summon Jamison, Tam. You know that,” Shar said flatly.
    â€œShar, it’s important.”
    Shar stepped close to Tamani, his words so quiet Laurel hardly heard them. “The last time I demanded the presence of a Winter faerie it was to save your life. I have watched other fae die when Avalon could have saved them because I knew I could not put my home at risk. We don’t call the Winters down for a chat .” He paused. “I will send a request. When they bring a response, I’ll let you know. That is all I can do.”
    Tamani’s face sank. “I thought—”
    â€œYou did not think,” Shar said sternly, and Tamani’s mouth clapped shut. Shar chased his reproach with a scowl, but after a moment he sighed and his expression softened. “And that is partly my fault. If I had been able to speak to you on that ridiculous thing you wouldn’t have been so concerned, and I could have made the request days ago. I apologize.” He placed one hand on Tamani’s arm. “It is a matter of great importance, but do not forget who you are. You are a sentry; you are a Spring faerie. Even your position of great notice doesn’t change that.”
    Tamani nodded solemnly, saying