Page 79 of The Unseelie War
Bitty's scream was high, pure, and terrible as she began to dissolve. Her iridescent wings flickered like a dying candle as she desperately tried to maintain her grip on Alex, clearly trying to hold onto reality through sheer force of will. “I don't want to go!” she cried, her tiny voice breaking with anguish. “I don't want to—” Therest of her words were lost as she faded to nothing, leaving only the echo of her fear.
Lysander lasted the longest, perhaps because he was touching the tree, perhaps because his connection to Ava's subconscious ran deeper than the others. He managed to free Alex's left arm before the dissolution reached him. He shifted to his human form just before disappearing, the more substantial size giving him a few more brief seconds. “Ava! Remember... remember that we chose this. All of us. We chose to be here, to help you, to?—”
And then he was gone, leaving Alex hanging partially free from the tree, blood streaming from her wounds, calling out names that no longer had anyone to answer to.
“No!”The scream that tore from Ava's throat was a broken thing, carrying with it all the grief and rage and desperate love she felt for her friends. Her power exploded outward in a wave of pure emotion, reality bending and warping around her fury.
The golden dome of threads that had protected her shattered like spun glass, the fragments dissolving into motes of light that danced around her like angry fireflies. Book fell from her hands as she lashed out at Valroy with everything she had.
It was the sound of rending metal that came to her first.
What was it with her and large metal objects?
Bazooka.
But Valroy was no fly.
Even if shehadjust dropped a sizable portion of the corroded and deteriorated engine block of whatmighthave been the Titanic on top of him.
Because not even that seemed to do any good. Her attack never reached him. The several-ton block of rusted steel hurtling through the air at the Unseelie King ceased to exist, dissolving into nothingness. And Valroy stood there, untouched by her rage, watching with her with an approximation of paternal pity.
“Was this what you wanted?” He lifted his hands and gestured at the decimation around him. “Are you happy now?”
“Youbastard!”Ava snarled, tears streaming down her face. “You—you killed them all! How can you killed yourown people?”
“They do not matter,” Valroy replied, his voice maddeningly calm. “And neither do those constructs of yours. Life is nothing more than a dream of meaning.” He took a step toward her, seemingly unaware of the reality-warping energy that crackled around her like lightning. “Existence is borrowed time, little Weaver. I collect what is owed.”
Lifting her hand, she struck out at him again, this time with threads of silver, her own power mimicking Serrik’s. Ava's power hammered against him in waves, each assault more desperate than the last. But it was like trying to destroy a mountain with handfuls of sand. He walked through her fury as if it were a gentle breeze, his expression never changing from that terrible, patient calm.
This was how she died.
There would be no stopping him now.
She had failed. Honestly, truly failed.
Valroy stopped a few feet from her and smiled sadly. “I—” he suddenly stopped, his hand flying to his chest where the tattoo of the Maze was etched into his skin. His face contorted with pain, blue eyes widening in surprise and…respect?“Ah.” There was almost a pleasure in his voice mixed with the agony. “That explains where my dear half-brother has gone off to.” His lip curled in hatred. “It seemsMother Morriganhad one last half-truth to tell me.”
Ava felt a flicker of hope pierce through her grief. Serrik. Serrik had made it to the tree at the heart of the Maze, and whatever he was doing there was causing Valroyrealpain.
Valroy straightened slowly, his hand still pressed to his chest, and began to laugh. It started as a chuckle, then grew into full-throated laughter that echoed across the battlefield like breaking bells.
“Clever,” he said, his voice rich with genuine admiration. “Oh, very clever indeed. You hoped I would be distracted? That I would be too set on stopping your little ritual while the Exile pulled me to pieces?” His laughter grew louder, more manic. “But this is your weakness. All three of you. You are too young! You still think likemortals—toolinearin space. Too simple. Too thin in the way you consider the world. But worst of all, you believe that if you just try hard enough, sacrifice enough, you are destined for success.”
He raised his fist high above his head, and darkness started to gather around it—not the absence of light, but something deeper and more terrible. “It is time to end this. Once and for all.” His fist slammed into the ground.
The world exploded around them in a swirl of shadow and howling wind. The sensation of falling lasted forever and no time at all. Then suddenly Ava was elsewhere, standing in a clearing that pulsed with malevolent life.
She’d been there once before.
The heart of the Maze.
The tree that served as the source of Valroy's power towered above them like a cathedral of nightmares, its branches reaching toward a sky that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be real or not. And at its base, golden threads sparkling in the strange light as he carved through root and bark with golden threads, was Serrik.
He looked up as they materialized, his multiple golden eyes taking in the scene with calculating speed. Ava. Alex, bleeding and barely conscious. Abigail, struggling to stand. And Valroy, wreathed in shadows and radiating fury like heat from a forge.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Why would Valroy bring his enemies to his most vulnerable location?
