“Listen,” Klea said, “we can’t just hang around here talking. We don’t have any idea how far their reinforcements might be.” She walked over to the tree where her metal disc was stuck. She retrieved it, then looked up at David, meeting his eyes for the first time. “Would you two mind giving me a ride? I’ll take you somewhere safe and we can talk.” She turned her gaze to Laurel. “We really need to talk.”
Laurel’s mind was screaming out against the idea — to not trust whoever Klea was. But she had just saved their lives. Besides, David was only too eager to agree.
“Yeah. Sure. Of course!” he said. “My car…it’s just down — well, you know where it is. I can totally give you a ride — um, except, well, it’s kind of stuck, but…” His voice trailed off, and an awkward silence filled the clearing.
Klea stowed the metal disc in a wide case that attached to her back. “I imagine the three of us can push your car free. Let’s go.” And she strode off in the direction of the car.
David turned to Laurel, both hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes darting over her, looking for wounds.
Laurel nodded. Okay probably wasn’t the best word, but she was alive. He gave a relieved sigh and wrapped his arms around her, his hand pressing painfully against her blossom. But Laurel didn’t care. She burrowed against his shoulder, wishing she could burst into relieved tears. But that would have to wait. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
“I’m alive,” she said skeptically. “I don’t know about safe yet. How are your knees?”
David shook his head. “They’re going to be way sore tomorrow, but at least I’m walking.”
“Good,” Laurel said, her breathing still a little fast. Then, remembering his moment of idiocy, she slapped her hand against his chest. “And what the hell was that giving-yourself-up thing?” she demanded.
David grinned sheepishly. “It was all I could think of at the moment.”
“Well, don’t you ever do anything like that again.”
David didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he shrugged and turned toward the car. “We’d better go.”
“Hey,” Laurel said, one hand reaching up to touch David’s cheek. “You go ahead, I’ll be there in a second,” she whispered. “I have to tie up my blossom. But,” she said sharply, “don’t tell her anything. I don’t trust her.”
“She just saved us from the trolls,” David countered. “She was awesome!”
“I don’t care! She’s a stranger and she knows something. You can’t tell her anything!” It was different for David — he wasn’t the one who had something to hide. “Now go, before she gets suspicious. Tell her I dropped my purse.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said firmly.
“It’ll just take a second,” Laurel said. “I have to tie up my blossom. Now please go. She’s looking up at us.” Klea had reached the bottom of the hill and was peering up at them through the darkness. “She’s going to come back up here if she doesn’t see you soon.”
With a long look and a squeeze of her hand, David reluctantly headed out of the trees and down the hill.
Laurel untied the knot around her waist and bent her petals down. The spot on her back still stung like an open wound. She gritted her teeth and bound the petals tightly. As soon as she pulled her shirt down over the blossom, she hurried out of the trees, forcing herself not to run. She picked her way down the hill in the dim moonlight and almost shrieked when she tripped and found herself face-to-face with a troll. She threw herself backward and started to scramble to her feet when she realized the troll wasn’t moving. She crept back to it and saw that it was the troll who had gotten a face full of monastuolo serum. Apparently there were ways around the open-air limitation.
She had only seconds to make her decision. Klea would want to see the unconscious troll — maybe kill it. But bright red lines streaked across the troll’s face where the serum had splashed and burned him; Klea would know Laurel or David had done something. And if Klea knew anything about Laurel at all, it would just make things worse. Laurel couldn’t alert Klea to the troll’s presence without also exposing her faerie potion. Trembling, Laurel stood, continued down the hill, and didn’t look back, wondering how long the serum would last. The sooner they were out of there, the better.
David’s car sat right where they had abandoned it, front tire wedged into the mud, with its headlights shining into the dark night and the passenger doors wide open.
“It’s pretty mired,” Klea said, her eyes lifting only briefly to acknowledge Laurel’s return, “but I think you and I can push it out, David.” She reached out and punched his arm lightly. “You look like a strong guy.”
David cleared his throat like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.
“Laurel, would you steer?” Klea asked as she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt.
After slipping into the driver’s seat, Laurel watched as David followed Klea to the hood of the car and they braced their hands against the bumper. She still wasn’t sure what to think. Five minutes ago she had thought her life was over — and, without Klea, she had no doubt it would have been. So really, what were they supposed to do? Leave the woman who had saved their lives stranded on the side of the road just because she knew Laurel’s name somehow? There was nothing to do but take her wherever it was she wanted to go. Once the car was out, anyway. But it was all too weird. Laurel wished she had more time to process the situation.
Laurel cranked the wheel as David and Klea pushed. After a few tries, the Civic slowly came loose and Laurel backed it up onto the road. After putting on the parking brake, she joined them as they stood studying the car, looking for damage. Or, more precisely, Klea studied the car while David stared at Klea.
“It could definitely use a good wash,” Klea said, “but it looks like you’re not going to have any souvenirs.”
“All the better,” Laurel said.
“So,” Klea said, stepping out of the glare of the headlights, “shall we go?”
David and Laurel exchanged looks, and Laurel gave him a nod. There was no way to silently indicate that there was an unconscious troll not fifty feet away.
They loaded into the car, David hurrying to open their doors for them as if it were just another night, and they were off. It took a short, silent argument with David, but Laurel remained at the wheel.
Klea directed her as they drove along. “It’s only about a mile or so,” she said. “We move our camp constantly. The only reason I’m letting you guys see it tonight is that it will be somewhere else tomorrow.”
“What kind of camp?” David asked.
“You’ll see,” Klea said. “Turn right here.”
“I don’t see a road,” Laurel said.
“You’re not meant to. Start turning, and you’ll see it.”
With a stoic nod Laurel began edging the Civic to the right. Just behind a large clump of bushes she spotted a hint of a road. She eased onto it and drove through a thin curtain of branches that scraped at the doors and windows. But as soon as she had passed through that, she found the Civic on two parallel tracks, obviously recently cut.
“Cool,” David said, leaning forward in his seat.
For about a minute they traveled silently up the dark, narrow road, Laurel becoming more and more certain that they were driving into a trap. If only she hadn’t forgotten her backpack! Then the road turned sharply to the right, revealing three camping trailers in a well-lit circle. In front of two of the campers sat two black trucks that would have been at home in a monster truck arena. Their deeply tinted windows reflected the glare from several bright floodlights, mounted on tall poles, that filled the camp with a stark, white light. Smaller lamps hung over each of the entrances to the trailers. Just outside of the light two brown horses were tethered to a stake and several swords and large guns were laid out on an aluminum picnic table. The sinking pit in Laurel’s stomach told her that she and David had just gotten in over their heads.