“Before I have to break up a fist fight.” Ibin picked up the tray of food and carried it down a hallway. “This way, Ava.”
Shaking her head and not bothering at all to say goodnight to Nos, she followed after the tall, graceful fae. Ibin guided her down a narrower hallway that screamed English Victorian.Paneled walls, deep crimson damask wallpaper, and gas lamps all turned low.
Ibin balanced the tray on her hip and opened up a dark wooden door. It led to a small side room that looked like it had been cobbled together from pieces of a dozen different architectural nightmares.
Ava laughed without meaning to.
Ibin glanced at her with an arched eyebrow.
“Sorry.” She smiled, waving a hand in embarrassment. “It’s cozy. I swear.” The walls were a patchwork of stone, wood, and what might have been bits of dried…rice paper…in some places? A bed sat in the corner, or at least—she assumed it was meant to be a bed. It was a nest of blankets, furs, and dozens of scarves.
A fireplace against the wall matched none of the rest of anything else. It looked mid-century modern, somehow. Which was garishly offset with the nonsense of everything else. But like all the places in this weird hell she’d found herself trapped in, it was overgrown with vegetation. One corner of the room was a tree that had overtaken the ceiling, its branches serving to support the small chandelier that hung down in the middle of the room.
“The Web is…unpredictable. At best.” Ibin sounded unamused. She set the tray down on a table by the fireplace. It didn’t match either the fireplaceorthe chair it sat next to. “We make do with its moods.”
“Moods.” She had a feeling that the fae wasn’t being hyperbolic.
Apparently, she wasn’t going to explain. “In the wardrobe there, you should find clean clothes. I have no idea what will fit you, apologies.” Ibin gestured to the overly elegant looking thing that was slowly being swallowed by the bark of the tree that was consuming it like living lava.
A scene fromBeauty and the Beastran through her head. “As long as it doesn’t talk.”
Ibin scratched her head, eying the wardrobe with a very serious expression. “It shouldn’t? Well. I’ll say that it has yet to. I suppose that doesn’t mean much around here.”
That got a tired, sad laugh out of Ava. “Oh my god.” She put her head in her hands. “What the fuck is wrong with my life…”
“A great deal, I’m afraid.” Ibin drew her into another gentle hug. Ava just accepted the comfort for what it was.
“I’d say I just wanted to go home, but.”
“This is your home now. The Web.” Ibin smiled down at her, trying now to honestly cheer her up. “There is happiness to be found here, I promise you that. Your future doesn’t need to be all doom and gloom. You can find friendship. Family. Even love, perhaps.” Ibin placed her palm to Ava’s cheek. “All looks dark now. But stay hopeful.”
“I have no idea how you can say that.”
“Honey, I fought in the Great War.” Ibin barked a laugh. “Once you’ve flown one of those biplane deathtraps, everything looksstellar,believe me.”
“The great—” Ava blinked. “You mean World War I?”
It was Ibin’s turn to look surprised. “There’s been more than one?”
“I mean—yeah—just, well—two, at least so far—how long have youbeenhere?” She suddenly realized she had no idea how old these creatures were. She knew they were old. But no cluehowold.
“1916? No. Wait. 1917. Let’s start with this.” Ibin grinned. “What year is it now?”
“2025.”
“Well, fuck me silly—” The fae cackled. “Bah. I should let you eat, take a bath, and change. The bath is through there. And no, before you ask, it doesn’t talk. And it won’t eat you. Probably.”
“Probably,” Ava repeated flatly.
“Best I can do, darling.” Ibin headed for the door. “And…I know he will talk to you in your sleep. I just…ask that you avoid any contracts with him. Give us a chance to convince you we deserve to livebeforeyou commit us all to the grave, yes?”
She wasn’t sure Serrik was going to give her a choice. He didn’t seem like the type. And she also knew she shouldn’t be promising Ibin and Nos anything, either. So she didn’t do either, she just…stated the facts. “I don’t trust him. He’s the reason I’m here.”
“Wonderful.” Ibin sounded so chipper about it. “Sleep well, love!” And with that, she shut the door and was gone.
Ava heaved out a long, heavy sigh.
The room was warm. And quiet, save for the chirp of crickets. It was the first moment she’d had in a long time that she wasn’t under constant fire. Taking her bag off her back, she went to put it down by the bed-nest-pile, and?—
