Page 35 of The Unseelie War
“No.” Serrik's voice was like winter wind.
Now all eyes turned to him. He had stepped to the very edge of the stage, his human form rigid with tension. “I will not be party to this scheme. We leave. Now.”
“Serrik—” Ava started, but he cut her off with a gesture.
“No. This is precisely what we were arguing about. This is exactly the situation I am seeking to avoid.” His golden eyes were hard as flint. “You ask me to stand against Valroy, knowing full well what that means. You ask me to become the monster you have spent so much effort convincing yourself I am not. I will not become a pawn in such useless and childish games.”
“I’m asking you to protect innocent people,” Ava shot back.
“There is no such thing as innocence!” He laughed, the sound bitter. “You would merely have me murder all fae to save the mortals, and then what? What would come next? The inevitable. You would look at me with loathing in your eyes, knowing what I had done.”
“You wouldn't be to blame?—”
“Oh, but I would,” Serrik interrupted. “I would be to blame. I would be the weapon. A killer. The spider that devours everything in its web.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “And you would learn to fear me, as youshould havefrom the beginning.”
Abigail stepped forward, her presence a calming influence in the growing storm of emotion. “Serrik, I understand your reluctance?—“
“Do you?” He turned his attention to her, and there was something predatory in the movement. “Do you truly understand what it means to beloathed?To know that every moment of peace, everyglimpse of happiness, every connection you make is nothing but a manipulation of your own doing?”
And then came the echoing, booming truth.
The ragged shout of fury that was at the heart of the matter. Serrik snarled down at Abigail, his words gravelly and thick with emotion. “Every second of my life has been in design toward a moment I now have come to realize will destroy me.”
Silence. The words echoed off the walls.
Serrik turned away from her, his movements sharp and angry. “I will assist you in evacuating the humans, if that is what you wish. I will help you shepherd them away from Valroy's path. But I will not stand against him.”
“Serrik, please—” Ava took a step toward him, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“We are done here. All of us.” His voice was cold again, the hidden warmth she'd grown to love completely absent. “Pack your things. We leave within the hour.”
“I…” Abigail said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade, “I am afraid that won't be possible.” She was studying something in her palm—a glass orb that had materialized from nowhere.
“What do you see?” Nos asked.
“Valroy's forces are already moving. They are preparing to overtake this amalgamation of a city.” Abigail looked up, her green eyes serious. “He is not waiting to build a larger army. He is working now, with what he has.” She gestured her hand, the orb vanishing. “We have perhaps six hours before he will begin their attack.”
Ava felt the bottom drop out of her world. “Six hours?"
“At most.”
“Then we really do have to leave.” Lysander fidgeted with the edge of his coat sleeve. “We can't possibly stand against Valroy. We don’t have anyone to fightwith.”
“We can't run either,” Nos pointed out grimly. “Not with six hours’ head start and him able to move through shadow. He will be hunting for us.”
“So what do you suggest?” Ibin shook her head. “This place is great and all, but makes for a rather terrible last stand position.”
Abigail straightened, and suddenly she seemed taller, more regal. “We have no army. And none is coming. We work to gather what other allies we can. Then, I suggest we proceed with my plan. I enter the Web, hopefully distracting Valroy. The rest of you, without Ava, and…with or without Serrik, attack the Maze. The realities separate. The crisis ends.”
“And if he isn’t distracted?” Ava felt the dread well up in her stomach like acid.
“Then all is lost.” Abigail's smile was sharp as a blade. “And we hope that those who claim to love us will stand beside us when the moment of oblivion comes.”
The pointed look she gave Serrik could have cut glass. Too bad the spider still had his back turned.
He said nothing in response to Abigail’s jab.
Ava looked around the theater at the assembled group. Bitty and Lysander, both looking terrified but determined. Nos and Ibin, their expressions grim but resolute. Abigail, serene and deadly in her certainty.
