Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ava led Serrik away from the opera house, through the chaotic streets of the merged city. Well, cities. She needed space—room to work without accidentally bringing down buildings on their friends when she inevitably lost control of her power.
The transformed landscape was getting weirder and weirder. Abigail was right. This was a ticking clock. She had to stop and stare as a building in front of her slowly dissolved, its bricks wandering off into dust, before its missing sections were reconstructed from the singing trees of Tir n'Aill.
Street signs had become bone structures that clunked liked hollow wind chimes, displaying text in three different languages—English, the First Language, and something that looked like it belonged in a theoretical physics textbook.
As they walked, Ava caught glimpses of other impossibilities. A chunk of the Public Gardens was floating about twenty feet off the ground, complete with jogging paths where confused-looking people were still going about their routines.
Above them, flying through the air, a pod of what appeared to be mechanical whales swam in formation, their bronze hulls gleaming in the strange aurora light that danced overhead.
“This is so beyond fucked up,” Ava muttered, stepping around a lamppost that was growing flowers instead of providing light.
The flowers themselves were doing the job instead, each one shining in a different color.
“I still don’t get why half the people we’re seeing aren’t just having straight-up panic attacks.
How’re they just going about their days? ”
“They must believe they are still dreaming. Humans are remarkably adaptable.” Serrik observed, his tone clinical.
“The mind has remarkable capacity for self-deception when faced with the impossible. It is easier for them to believe that this may simply be the result of a night of excess or illness than to think that what they see before them, which was heretofore impossible, has now become possible.”
“Yeah, well, I don't have that luxury anymore.” Ava paused to watch a group of children playing hopscotch on squares that appeared and disappeared with each hop, their laughter echoing strangely in the distorted air.
The sight should have been heartwarming, but instead it filled her with a crushing sense of despair.
These kids were living in a world she had broken, playing games that might literally reshape reality around them with each innocent movement.
“Even if Valroy doesn’t get to them first, they don’t understand how dangerous this is. None of them do. One strong nightmare, one moment of real terror, and those kids could accidentally create something that would…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.
“Indeed.” Serrik's hand found her shoulder, a gentle pressure that somehow managed to be comforting despite the sharp points of his nails. “Which is why we must find a solution quickly.”
They continued walking until they reached what had once been Boston Common.
The familiar park was now a bizarre fusion of three different realities.
The old oak trees still stood, but they were interwoven with the silver-leaved singing trees of Tir n'Aill, creating a canopy that whispered lullabies in languages that predated human civilization.
“Here,” Serrik said finally, stopping in what had once been a small grove near the Frog Pond.
Now it was a clearing surrounded by trees that were out of season from the others around them.
Where the other trees were full green summer leaves, these trees were autumn, their leaves shifting between tones of gold, red, and yellow.
They drifted to the ground like snow. It would be beautiful, if she didn’t want to scream.
“This should provide sufficient distance.”
Somewhere in the back of her head, Ava remembered that the Frog Pond was originally where they had drowned witches during the early days of Boston’s history while they had “questioned” them. Somehow that felt fitting, given the situation.
Nodding, she rolled her shoulders back as she prepared herself. The anger that had been building since Valroy's ultimatum was still burning in her chest, and she intended to use every bit of it. “Right. Time to have a chat with Mom-in-law.”
“I still question if this is wise, Ava.” Serrik's golden eyes creased in worry. “The Morrigan is not known for her…amiability. Or her patience with the concerns of others.”
“Yeah, well, I’m done being patient with her concerns.
” She closed her eyes, reaching out with her power.
The energy that flowed through her was different now—wilder, more responsive, but also more dangerous.
Like the difference between driving a Fiat or an F-1 car.
Or holding lightning in her bare hands instead of knitting needles.
But there was something else, too. A sense of connection that went deeper than just power. Like she was looking through windows or simply opening doors in endless hallways.
She could feel the threads that connected her to the Web, yes, but more than just that.
The dreams of everyone sleeping within a fifty-mile radius.
The half-formed nightmares of children who were afraid of the dark.
The persistent anxiety of adults who worried about bills and jobs and whether their lives had any meaning.
It was the first time she’d dared to try to do this since…
Fuck.
All of it was connected to her now, flowing through her consciousness like a river of collective human experience. It was overwhelming and beautiful and terrifying all at once.
She jerked away from the sensation like she’d just grabbed a live wire.
“What is it?” Serrik stepped close, concerned.
“It’s—it’s different.” She shook her head. “I can feel everything. Every person, every dream, every—every nightmare.”
“Ah.” His expression smoothed. “Yes.” Lifting a hand, he pressed his palm to her cheek. “When I was the center of the Web, and there was no Weaver, that was my burden to bear.”
“How did you not go fucking insane?” She laughed incredulously.
His expression grew distant. “You learn to build walls. To create barriers between yourself and the endless noise.” He paused. “But you must be careful, Ava. Those walls, once built, are not so easily removed.”
That made sense. She wondered if that was where his…clinical detachment came from. His coldness. “You don’t need to tell me, and I’m sorry if this is a personal question. But…”
“You can ask me anything, Ava.”
“What…what did Dagda and Bres do to you?”
He let out a sigh. “You have seen my missing limbs. Have you not wondered how I sustained such injury?”
The flashes of remembered imagery. The laughter, the knife. Valroy’s taunt of what spider meat might taste like. Her eyes went wide as she remembered his visceral reaction when they had been making love and she had wanted to—
Oh. “Oh my god—” Horror and a rush of adrenaline overwhelmed her, like she’d been caught in a lie. “I’m so sorry, I never meant—fuck—shit—I’m so sorry—Serrik—”
“Shush, Ava.” He gathered her into his arms, holding her close. “Of course you did not. You could not have known. The scars left upon my mind, body, and soul are not yours to apologize for.”
She hugged him tight, resting her head on his chest. Shutting her eyes, she took comfort in the strength in his frame.
The smell of him—the scent of the woods, of the tang of what she knew now as the poison that ran through his veins and the webs he spun, that citrusy smell that made her want to curl up closer to him.
“I will be at your side for as long as time and fate will permit me.” He stroked her hair.
“I will be here to scale whatever walls you need place in my way to remind you of who you are. As you have done for me.” He chuckled.
“And you had a far mightier task to perform, I might add.” He lifted her head from his chest and crooked a finger under her chin, urging her to meet his gaze.
“As I wanted nothing to do with such an intrepid little interloper prying into my heart. Yet here she is, victorious conqueror, all the same.”
Smiling faintly, she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He met her halfway. Holding the embrace for a long moment, she wished they could just…stay like that. But they couldn’t.
She had a goddess to goddamn yell at.
Sinking back down to her feet, she broke the kiss and let out a long sigh. “Right.” Taking a step back, she shut her eyes and once more reached out with her power. “Here we go.”
She focused on the Morrigan, trying to picture the towering figure of feathers and shadow she'd encountered before.
The cosmic force that had created Serrik and Valroy, that had set all of this chaos in motion.
The goddess who seemed to delight in riddles and half-truths while reality burned around them.
But summoning a goddess, Ava quickly discovered, was nothing like the super-casual, no-big-deal reality-fuck-upping she'd been doing lately. This was different. Much different. Like trying to pull a whole-ass mountain through a keyhole.
The power flowed out from her in waves, reality bending and warping around them.
The grass beneath her feet began to change colors, cycling through shades that had no names like a tacky LED display at a Chinese restaurant.
The air itself seemed to thicken, becoming almost viscous as her energy pressed against the barriers between dimensions.
Serrik stepped back, his expression tense. “Ava, perhaps you should—”
“No.” She gritted her teeth, pouring more power into the summoning. “I’m done with her games. I'm done with cryptic bullshit. She's going to get her feathery bird butt down here and give me some straight answers for fucking once.”