Page 61 of The Unseelie War
The only way to keep theirselvesintactagainst the battering of time.
For around each of the circles drawn there appeared another emblem.
Around Alex, the coil of a snake.
Around Abigail, the spread of a bat’s wings.
Around Ava, seven spiders’ legs.
Love was the only thing that would allow them to hold on for a little while longer against the inevitable press of time.
Except there was a serious problem, wasn’t there?
Izael was already dead. And Serrik and Valroy were doomed to destroy each other.
Tears stung her eyes. Alex’s sacrifice would be very different, now. Abigail’s hung in the balance of the war, as did Ava’s. A war that only had one ending.
She let out a choked sob. With the knowledge came the absolute certainty that this was the only way. There was no clever solution, no last-minute reprieve, no magical alternative that would save everyone. Just the cold, mathematical necessity of sacrifice.
Three souls to save three worlds.
The tome burned in her hands like molten metal, but she couldn't let go. The knowledge kept pouring in, showing her exactly how theritual would work, what words needed to be spoken, what prices needed to be paid. She saw the moment when she would step into her circle and feel the void claim her, watched her own face grow blank and distant as her humanity drained away.
A humanity that would only survive if Serrik was there to keep hold of it. But she knew nowthat he wouldn’t be. He would be taken from her.
Just as Abigail would not have Valroy.
And Alex would not have Izael.
Their love would die. But the love of all the others in three worlds would live.
Ava screamed.
Sometimes…ignorance reallywasbliss.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ava sat up with a gasp, clutching Book against her chest like a shield against the world. She was sitting in the grass in the park where she had attempted to summon the Morrigan, Serrik kneeling beside her with concern written across his features. The bronze raven statue on its tall pedestal lay next to her, a giant dent in it from when it had hit the ground.
Serrik’s hands hovered over her, not quite touching, as if he were afraid he might shatter her. “Ava! Are you injured? What—” He went silent as he stared at the tome in her hands. “You were unconscious for nearly an hour, and now you return with that…I take it you were at least somewhat successful.”
“I fuckinghate her.”She groaned. Her entire body ached as if she’d been in a car accident. Her head was pounding and she could taste blood in her mouth. But somehow, miraculously, she didn’t have any serious injuries. Probably by benefit of being the Weaver and not being human anymore. Having a statue of that size dropped on her head would have killed her otherwise.
Book felt warm in her hands. And somehow heavier than before. Placing it in her lap, she ran her hand over the rusted iron latches. Frowning, she knew it was no longer locked to her. And sureenough, she simply…flicked them open, one at a time. It wasn’t Serrik’s creation anymore.
It was hers.
Serrik sat back on his heels, sensing the same thing.
The pages were no longer blank, either. Every page was filled with the First Language or jagged diagrams that moved and shifted when she wasn’t looking directly at them. Illustrations that showed creatures that were beautiful and nightmarish and…familiar. No, more than that. That werefamily.
“I…” Her throat was raw from screaming. “I know what I have to do. What we—what Abigail and Alex and I have to do…what we’ve always had to do to fix things…once and for all.”
He was silent for a long moment. “And?”
Looking up at him, she could barely see him through the tears at first. She wiped them away on her sleeve, sniffling. The knowledge the Morrigan had forced into her head was still burning away at her like acid. Every detail of what was to come, every terrible step of the process—every price that would be paid.
You would have made a great dad, Serrik.
