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“I’m just saying,” Izael interjected, “that it’s clear to me that Serrik doesn’t trust you.

And how can you trust him if he doesn’t trust you?

” He looked off into the woods. “Indeed, it seems Valroy is willing to expose himself to more of a real threat on your behalf than the exile. You could honestly cause Valroy real harm this night. Perhaps even kill him if you so desired. Serrik? What harm could you cause him if he revealed his true form to you, save the emotional pain of disgust?”

She really didn’t like that Izael was making sense.

Really, really didn’t like it. Frowning, she went quiet as Puck brought back the stick, wagging gleefully.

She had the feeling that he’d play fetch for as long as she was willing to throw it.

“It also doesn’t seem right to tell the guy to expose some deep part of himself he doesn’t feel comfortable showing me. ”

“And I’m not saying that isn’t valid. I’m just simply saying that if he’s expecting you to risk it all on him, you might want a little bit of that in return.

That’s all. But,” he shrugged wistfully, “what do I know. I’m just a mad fool, only one step saner than the crazed thing you’re playing toss with. ”

Yeah, she really wasn’t liking how this was going.

Namely, because…he was right, to a certain extent.

There was still a great deal about Serrik that she didn’t know.

But to ask him to rip the mask off and show her a part of himself that he so clearly loathed?

It felt wrong. Dirty. Like that was somehow a breach of trust in its own right. “I’ll think about it.”

Izael seemed satisfied with that response, or at least recognized he'd pushed as far as he could. He gave her a small nod before turning his attention to something ahead.

“There's a nice spot up here,” Alex said, pointing to where the path widened into a small clearing beside a pond.

The pond was unlike any Ava had seen before—perfectly circular, as if carved by design rather than nature. Its water was impossibly still, reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. Along its edges, strange luminescent plants grew that cast a soft blue glow across the surface.

Puck, still in dog form, bounded ahead and then skidded to a halt at the pond's edge, his tail wagging furiously as he stared into the water.

“What's he looking at?” Ava asked, approaching cautiously.

“Just wait.” Alex smiled. “You'll see.”

As they reached the pond's edge, Ava saw them—beneath the glassy surface, dozens of small, glowing creatures darted back and forth. They resembled fish in their general shape, but their bodies were transparent, revealing intricate inner structures that pulsed with light.

“Whoa…What are they?” she whispered, mesmerized.

“They’re a rare sight here,” Izael replied, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, as if he were afraid of spooking them off.

“Think of them as…dream-fish. They feed on stray thoughts and emotions. They’re th e things that flit in and out of the corner of your eye when you stay up too late.

They are not from Tir n’Aill, but can appear in this world at times, because the veil is thin here. ”

As if on cue, one of the creatures suddenly shot upward, breaking the surface with a splash that sent ripples across the previously perfect mirror. It hung suspended in the air for a moment, its body shimmering with multicolored light, before diving back into the water.

“So that’s what I kept seeing during those all-nighters.” Ava chuckled.

Puck barked excitedly, pacing back and forth along the edge of the pond. More of the fish began to leap from the water, creating arcs of light against the night sky.

“They're attracted to strong emotions,” Alex explained, sitting down on a flat rock near the water's edge. “Puck's probably broadcasting enough chaos to feed them for weeks.”

“Or they're sensing what's inside you,” Izael added, giving Ava a significant look.

Ava self-consciously touched her arm where the tattoo spiraled beneath her sleeve. “You mean the Web?”

“Mm. More or less.” Izael grunted when Alex elbowed him. “I have to be careful.”

“I’m getting real sick of not knowing what you all know.

” Ava sat down on another rock. “I’m the only one not in on a joke.

” She let herself focus on the fish. It was beautiful in a way that made her chest ache—another reminder that for all its dangers, Tir n'Aill contained wonders Earth could scarcely imagine.

Bitty hovered nearby, clearly wanting to join them but still maintaining her cautious distance. Ava patted the rock beside her. “C’mere, Bit. It's okay. I think they’re just fish.”

The tiny fae hesitated, then nervously made her way over, perching on the very edge of the rock. Her wings twitched anxiously, but her eyes were fixed on the fish with unmistakable wonder. “They’re so gorgeous… ”

Puck had apparently grown bored with the fish and had shifted back to his humanoid form.

He now sat cross-legged at the pond's edge, trailing his fingers through the water and giggling whenever a skeletal fish tried to nibble at them.

“So, Weaver,” he called over his shoulder.

“Got any questions for ol' Robin Goodfellow?

I've been around a while. Seen some things. Know some stuff.”

“Dangerous offer,” Alex warned, though her tone was light.

“Oh, I know all sorts of dangerous things, too,” Puck agreed cheerfully. “Like the fact that Serrik's actually?—”

“Don’t. Both of you, don’t.” Alex cut him off sharply.

Puck rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But she's going to find out soon.”

“Okay. I’m going to scream. Puck. Please. Please. What’s going on?”

Puck made a sign like zipping his lips. “Sorry, babes. I can’t.

I really would. But I promise you that you’re going to know very, very soon.

” There was a sudden age in his eyes, and all of the happiness and silliness in him vanished for a split second.

“Everything needs to happen in its right order. You’ll understand soon.

” And like a switch flicking back on, he grinned.

Maybe she was starting to peel back the curtain after all. And that was really not something she enjoyed. “What are you?” She leaned back a bit.

“That’s a real funny story.” Puck shook a finger at her. “In two years, I’ll be sitting at your kitchen counter, and you’ll plonk a bottle of scotch down in between us and I’ll tell it.”

“I—that’s oddly specific, but um. Okay.” She shook her head. “I just want someone to be straight with me for fucking once. Is that so hard?”

“It is!” Puck sighed dramatically, flopping onto his back on the mossy shore. “The problem, little Weaver, is that everyone's playing their own game here. Valroy has his agenda. Serrik has his. The courts, the Web—all moves on a board you can't fully see.”

“And where do you fit in this game?” Ava asked.

Puck grinned up at the night sky. “Me? I’m playing a different game. They’re chess, I’m poker. I’m the wild card. The joker in the deck. I'm whatever I need to be in the moment, wherever and whenever I need to be there.”

“That's not an answer.” No wonder Valroy looked like he had a terminal migraine when Puck had shown up.

“Sure it is! Just because it’s not one you understand or the one you wanted doesn’t mean it’s not an answer.

” He sat up suddenly, his silver hair catching the moonlight.

“Here's a free bit of wisdom, though—don't let anyone fool you into thinking there are only two sides to this conflict.

There are dozens. Hundreds, maybe. And most of them wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice you for their goals.”

“Including you?” Ava challenged.

Puck looked offended. “Me? Sacrifice you? Hardly! You're the most interesting thing to happen around here in centuries! I want to see which one of your stories plays out.”

“Which one?”

“Long story.” He waved a hand. “String theory.”

“I—right. And my life isn’t about your entertainment.”

“Everything is entertainment if you live long enough,” Puck replied, his expression suddenly ancient despite his youthful appearance.

“But that doesn't mean I want to see you destroyed.

Where's the fun in a story that ends too soon?” His manic grin reappeared as quickly as it had vanished.

“And besides. You play a really good game of fetch.”

Before Ava could respond, the fish all suddenly scattered, diving deep into the pond.

“He's coming,” Bitty whispered, shrinking closer to Ava.

“Who’s—” Ava began, but fell silent as she felt it too—a pressure in the air, a weight that hadn't been there before. The night grew darker. Colder.

Valroy stepped from between two trees, his massive wings folded behind him. Despite having just walked through a forest in the dark, not a single leaf or twig clung to him. Which meant he had stepped through the forest .

“It is time,” he said without preamble.

Ava stood, brushing off her jeans. “That was fast.”

“I was eager to be done with the council.” Valroy replied, grimacing. It seemed he found politics just as boring as she did. “The rest of you will return to the court.”

“Aww, can't I come?” Puck whined. “I’ll be good!”

“No.” Valroy’s response was a lead brick.

“What about Bitty?” Ava asked, glancing at the tiny fae who seemed ready to bolt at any moment. “She’s harmless. I’d hate to leave her on her own. I’d like her to stay with me.”

Valroy's expression hardened. “No. The heart of the Maze?—”

“Will just have to deal with it,” Ava cut him off. “She's the only one I trust here, and I don’t trust your people not to eat her the moment I’m not around to stop it.”

The Unseelie King studied her for a long moment, his faintly glowing blue eyes unreadable. Finally, he inclined his head slightly. “Very well. But should she come to harm this night by her actions or yours, I am not to blame.”

“Understood.” Ava turned to Alex and Izael. “I guess this is goodbye for now. I enjoyed the company.” She paused. “Mostly.” She glanced at Izael.

“Try not to die,” Izael suggested helpfully. “And I still want an answer to that question.”

“Yeah. No. You’re not getting one. Ever.” She rolled her eyes.

Alex offered a more genuine smile. “You'll be fine. Valroy may be a lot of things, but he keeps his word.”

“How reassuring,” Ava muttered.

“Come,” Valroy commanded, stretching out his sharp-nailed hand. “I am eager to conclude our business this evening.”

Ava hesitated, then reached out and took his hand. His skin was surprisingly rough, like a warrior—like someone who used his hands every day. With her other hand, she gripped Bitty's small fingers, feeling them tremble in her grasp .

“Close your eyes,” Valroy instructed. “Movement through the trees can be…disorienting.”

Ava obeyed, though not before catching Puck's exaggerated wink. Then the world shifted around her—a sensation like falling while standing still, like being turned inside out and reassembled. The air grew thicker, heavier, filled with metallic scents that reminded her of old pennies and rusty pipes.

“You may look now,” Valroy's voice sounded different here—deeper, more resonant, as if emerging from somewhere far larger than his physical form.

Ava opened her eyes and gasped.

They stood at the center of what could only be described as a ruin.

Around her was a series of collapsed stone walls, overgrown with vines and trees.

For a moment, it reminded her almost of the Web, only this was far older.

Far more ancient. Something that dated to pre-history, perhaps.

The ruins created a large, circular arc around them.

And in its center, a massive platform of weathered stone, circular and flat, rising from the center of a shallow pool that surrounded it.

But it was what stood atop the platform that stole her breath.

An enormous tree, ancient beyond reckoning, its bark blackened and gnarled, its branches bare of leaves and twisted like arthritic fingers reaching toward an invisible sky.

But what made the sight truly horrifying were the countless weapons embedded in its trunk—swords, spears, daggers, axes from every era of human history, some still gleaming as if newly forged, others rusted nearly to dust.

And beneath them all, the roots—massive, twisted things that plunged into the stone platform before reemerging to spread across its surface and dip into the pool surrounding it. A pool filled not with water, but with something darker, thicker. Something that pulsed with a slow, steady rhythm.

Blood.

An impossible amount of it, stretching as far as she could see in every direction. The roots of the tree split off into thinner and thinner shoots, until they resembled veins, arteries, and capillaries.

Beside her, Bitty made a small, frightened sound. Ava squeezed her hand reassuringly, though she felt anything but confident herself.

“Welcome,” Valroy spread his wings wide behind him, “to the center of the Maze. The heart of my power. The source of all that I am.”

He stepped forward onto the stone platform, the blood rippling around its edges as he moved. Then he turned, extending his hand once more.

“Come, Weaver. Let us speak of that which dwells beyond our worlds. Of power and control. And of what it means to share your body with something that is not entirely your own.”

Ava could have sworn she heard a whisper emanate from the tree’s gnarled trunk—a sound like metal scraping against wood, like blades being unsheathed.

Like the Maze itself was waking to greet its visitors.

Waking…to greet her.