Page 13 of The Unseelie War
“The trees and you have…” She shut her eyes. “Never mind.”
“I may not be entirely fae, but I am fae enough.” He sat down beside her. “And we are not the only one seeking a desperate shelter this eve. We have neighbors.”
“I…have no doubt.” She leaned her head back against the bark of the tree. “I can't believe I just…” She gestured vaguely in the direction they'd come from. “I’ve never used my power like that before.”
Serrik settled beside her, his back against one of the massive tree trunks. "How did it feel?"
“Terrifying,” she admitted. “Like I was drowning and flying at the same time. I could feel your mind, your…your anger. It was like touching molten metal. Is that what it feels like when you use your threads on people?”
“No.” He paused. “I could feel you too. It was…unsettling. It is likely because your strings are part of the Web. And the Web is, as you know, the dream-state.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the transformed city around them. Somewhere in the distance, something howled—long and mournful and definitely not human. Closer by, the trees themselves seemed to whisper, their leaves rustling with no wind to move them.
“Do you think I did the right thing?” Ava asked finally. “Stopping you, I mean. The rest I’ve clearly fucked up.”
Serrik was quiet for so long that she thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. “I wanted to kill them. The moment I saw them, I wanted them dead. It didn't matter that they had children with them, didn't matter that they were clearly seeking shelter. All I could see was fae, and all I could think about was making them pay for what was done to me.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. Because you stopped me. Because you made me see them as individuals instead of just... targets.” He turned to look at her, and in the dim light filtering through the canopy, his expression was unreadable. “I do not know if that makes me better or worse. If I am becoming more human or merely becoming weak.”
“If you can see past the haze, that’s all I want. If you still want them dead and you can see past the rage? I…then we can talk about that. But I want the real you to make that decision. Not the revenge-driven, angry Serrik to make that decision."
“And what if the rage is all that is left? Or what if it eats what remains?”
The question hung between them, heavy with implications Ava wasn't sure she was ready to explore. Instead, she reached out and touched his hand. “Then we'll figure it out together."
Above them, the trees rustled again, and this time Ava could have sworn she heard words in the sound. Ancient words in a language she didn't recognize but somehow understood—Rest. Heal. The dawn will bring what it brings.
“I think the trees are trying to…tell us something?” She blinked.
“Trees have always been wiser than the rest of us.” Reaching out, he stroked her hair. “Sleep, Ava. I will keep watch.”
“What if Puck comes back?”
“Then I will wake you.”
“What if something attacks?”
“Then I will handle it.”
“What if?—”
“Ava.”
“What?”
“Sleep.”
This time there was just enough command in his voice that Ava's eyes grew heavy despite her worries. The moss beneath her was impossibly comfortable, and the sound of the whispering trees was oddly soothing. Despite everything—the chaos, the danger, Puck's disappearance, the uncertain future stretching ahead of them—she felt safer than she had in a long time.
They sat in comfortable silence after that, watching the hybrid sky and listening to the impossible music drifting on the evening air. Around them, the silver oaks sang their ancient songs while Earth's trees rustled in response, creating a harmony that had never existed before and might never exist again.
Tomorrow, Ava knew, there would be new crises. New refugees to help, new dream/nightmare constructs to deal with, new aspects of her power to discover and hopefully control. The scope of responsibility she now bore was staggering—every thought, every emotion, every unconscious desire could reshape reality for millions of people.
But for now, in this moment, sitting beneath singing and whispering trees in a park that existed in three worlds simultaneously, she allowed herself a moment of peace.
After all, she reflected, the universe had waited this long to be broken. It could wait a little longer to be fixed.
