Page 27

“Doesn’t it?” Puck leaned back on the legs of the folding chair again.

“You’re growing attached. And I think you would be, with or without your, y’know.

” He gestured at her tattoo. “That nonsense. Because otherwise, let’s admit it—he’s not exactly a paragon of charisma, is he?

At least ‘ol ladder-dick has that going for him.” He jerked his head toward Valroy.

Whose eye might have twitched, but Ava couldn’t be sure. She was not going to ask about the nickname. She didn’t need details.

She also wanted to ask if all council meetings started with someone baiting the Unseelie King into a fit of rage, but she was pretty certain she didn’t want to know. It was more likely she was just the lucky loser.

“It may have been the influence of the Web that made her do it,” Lysander interjected. “It may not have been entirely her own doing. Therefore, the conversation about influence is moot.”

Ava cringed. “Thing is, I don’t know, and it’s not his fault either way.

” Why did that upset her so much, the insinuation that it hadn’t been real?

She’d made that accusation herself—right to Serrik’s face.

But the idea of other people glomming onto that theory and using it as an excuse made her want to stand up for the man who wasn’t there to defend himself. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I have about a billion questions.” Izael was back to pouring himself three glasses of wine in one goblet. “But I’ll be patient and wait.” He smirked. “I have a semblance of a survival instinct.”

“Sometimes,” Alex muttered in a way that spoke volumes.

“My time to tell y’all to fuckin’ focus.” Puck snapped his fingers in front of him. “The point I’m making, Daddy V, is that waiting for Serrik to screw things up and burn the bridge with Ava may not work.”

Valroy watched Ava for a moment, thoughtfully. When he spoke, his tone had changed. All anger, all humor, all sneering haughtiness had fled. There was a seriousness to it that turned the air around him as cold as the dead of winter. “It will never cease to amaze me.”

“What?” She arched an eyebrow.

“A human’s capability to put compassion before their own survival.

” He looked equally disgusted and bewildered by the concept, yet somehow in awe of it at the same moment.

“I wonder…will you lose that when all this is through?” But just as quickly, the moment was gone.

The sneer returned, and he looked off into the darkness, dismissing her.

Whatever they’d just shared, it was gone. And it’d only been for them. She wondered if any of the others at the table had even heard him speak. She shook her head, trying to clear whatever had just happened.

“You may believe me or not, Weaver,” Valroy’s voice was back to its usual punchable tone. “But betwixt my half-brother and I? Maintaining your humanity remains my priority, not his.”

“Explain? Because I’m going to call bullshit.” Ava laughed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Even the ghostly servants paused in their duties, hovering uncertainly with platters suspended in mid-air .

“He's not wrong,” Nos said quietly, breaking the silence.

He was once more lacking the illusion that made his eyes match—he must have lost it on his tropical vacation.

“What makes you valuable to King Valroy, to all of us, is not just the Web's power, but your human perspective. Your ability to choose. Otherwise, you would simply default to being under Serrik’s control the moment you become the vessel.”

Yet Serrik also claimed his priorities had recently shifted. But how high had her “human perspectives” gone on his list? First? Or second to the death of his entire people? And everyone had been accusing her of trusting him—how much did she trust him?

Reflexively, she must have touched the bracelet. Because Valroy’s eyes traced her hand to her wrist.

“Do not see that trinket as anything more than what it is. An illusion, nothing more. It is simply there to maintain his singular influence over you.” Valroy swirled his red wine.

“And what you’re trying to do is different how, exactly?

” She looked up. “Having Lysander following me around. Wanting Nos and Ibin to be my attendants. Both of you are refusing to tell me ‘the true nature of the Web.’” She couldn’t help but mock Serrik’s voice when she said the last part.

“The two of you are playing the same exact game with me. The same exact game. And I need you to stop pretending otherwise.”

Valroy’s expression fell. “I know not of what you speak.”

Puck was coughing, having snorted coconut milk up his nose when Ava had mocked Serrik’s accent. “Gonna—gonna die?—”

Valroy's wings tensed, the membrane stretching taut. For a moment, Ava thought he might actually launch himself across the table at Puck—or at her. But then, surprisingly, his posture relaxed.

“You make a valid point,” he admitted, his voice unusually measured. “Our methods may differ, but our goals are similar. We both seek to use your power for our own ends.”

The frank admission caught Ava off guard. She'd expected denial, deflection, or anger—not honesty .

“The key difference,” Valroy continued, “lies in what those ends are. Serrik seeks destruction—the annihilation of an entire race. My goals are more…complex.”

“Complex, how?” She was too sober for this. She finished off her glass of wine and went for another. “You just said you want to see Earth burn.”

“Want? Yes. But unlike the exile, I understand the value of restraint.” Valroy's glowing blue eyes shifted, the darkness within them swirling. “My wife ensures that balance is maintained. That my darker impulses remain…checked, despite my best efforts.”

“Are all you demigod fae this romantic?” Ava muttered into her glass.

Lysander cleared his throat. “What His Majesty means is that there's a difference between desire and intent. All creatures of such power have destructive impulses, but civilization is built on our ability to control them.”

“Very poetic,” Puck snorted. “But can we cut the crap? Valroy's not trying to help Ava because he respects her humanity or whatever bullshit you're spinning. He's doing it because he needs her cooperation.”

“As opposed to Serrik, who—what? Doesn't need her cooperation?” Alex spoke up, her first real contribution to the conversation. “He's just as dependent on her willingness right now because she’s here.”

“Exactly my point! She’s here.” Puck slapped the table, making the silverware jump. “Show her the goods. Enough stalling. Give her the grand tour, Daddy V!”

“The grand tour of what?” Ava asked, curiosity overriding her irritation.

Puck's manic grin widened. “The center of the Maze, of course! The heart of Valroy's power. The thing that makes him special. Cut to the chase!”

Valroy's expression darkened. “I can teach her what it means to be a vessel without that. That is not an option. "

“Why not?” Puck challenged. “Spider-boy's already shown her his library, his magic, his c?—”

“Enough,” Valroy cut him off. “The heart of the Maze is not a tourist attraction.”

“No, it's a point of connection,” Puck retorted, suddenly serious. “It's your essence. The thing that makes you understand what she's going through better than anyone else.”

A hush fell over the table. Even the ghostly servers froze in place, as if afraid to move. For a moment, Ava didn’t understand why. Then she put two and two together. The heart of the Maze. Valroy’s essence. How many times had people mentioned how hard Valroy was to kill?

That must be the only way to do it. To hurt the heart of the Maze. The person she was sitting at dinner with wasn’t the real Valroy. Just like she was going to soon become “not the real Ava,” she was becoming an extension of the Web.

For several heartbeats, the two fae stared each other down—Valroy with his cosmic power, Puck with his inexplicable confidence.

Finally, Valroy's gaze shifted to Ava. “I am what I am, Ava Cole. I was designed to be this. You were not. That, above all else, separates what you and I were meant to become. Do you understand that?”

“I do.” She paused. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with what we’re talking about.”

“A great deal, Ava. I am not, nor ever shall I be, privy to the same laws, moral standards, or opinions, that you or any of the others at this table shall be. I am, and always have been, a product of my creation.” Valroy placed a hand over the symbol of the maze tattooed over his chest.

Much like the tattoo of the spiderwebs she now wore.

He leaned forward, those blue eyes pinning her to the spot as he continued.

“You are becoming a creature capable of refashioning whole realities itself. A weapon to be wielded. But so much more than that. You will change. You will be remade. And you must decide who you wish to become. And you must decide who will guide you there. For I loathe to think what may become of you if you do it alone. ”

Ava watched him for a long moment. “Will you show it to me? The center of the Maze.”

“Why do you wish to see it, Ava Cole?” Valroy tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Trust.” She leaned back in her chair. “If I can remake realities, like you say—you’re trusting me not to un-make you. It shows me that you’re willing to trust me. Just a little.”

Valroy studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he glanced at Puck, who wiggled his eyebrows expectantly.

“Very well," Valroy said at last. "I will take you to the heart of the Maze.”

“Your Majesty,” Lysander began, concern evident in his voice. “Are you certain that's wise? She may not have full control over her powers, and if she destroys the heart of the Maze?—”

“She will not.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Ibin asked quietly.

Valroy's wings shifted, the membrane catching the moonlight. “Then it will no longer be my concern, one way or another.”

“Cheerful as always,” Puck commented, draining the last of his coconut with a noisy slurp. “When do we leave? I love field trips.”

“You,” Valroy said pointedly, “are not invited.”

“Aww, but Daaaaad, come on!” Puck pouted dramatically. "Fine. But I expect a full report afterward.” He winked at Ava. “With all the juicy details.”

“When?” Ava asked, ignoring Puck's antics, though she couldn’t repress her smile. “When will we go?”

“Tonight,” Valroy decided. “After the council meeting concludes.”

“Excellent!” Puck clapped his hands. “Now that that's settled, can we please eat? I'm starving!”

As if on cue, the ghostly servants resumed their duties, placing platters of food before each guest. Conversation shifted to less existential topics, though Ava found it hard to focus on anything but the looming visit to the center of the Maze.

Only a few hours until she would see the center of the Maze, and how Valroy operated as a creature similar to what she was becoming. A few hours until she might find answers to the questions that had plagued her since this nightmare began.

As she picked at her food, Ava was acutely aware of Valroy watching her from the head of the table, his cosmic eyes calculating. Whatever happened in the Maze tonight would change things between them. It would shift the balance of power in ways she couldn't predict.

But she had to take the risk. Because he might also be able to teach her how to maintain her humanity while merging with an inhuman entity.

Or, she might be making a deal with a devil far worse than the one she already knew.

The great debate in her head began.

As the real politics started.