But Ava was already moving down the hallway. She didn’t look back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—it was that she couldn’t afford to. If she hesitated for even a moment, she knew she’d crumble.
She’d give in to the fear gnawing at her. The uncertainty. She’d run back to the relatively familiar safety of Nos and Ibin—deceptive as it might be.
Trust no one but yourself.
The Web’s warning echoed in her mind as she navigated the twisting corridors. The Baroque architecture was even more overgrown than she remembered—vines twisting through ornate columns, flowers blooming from cracks in the marble floor, tree roots snaking across her path. It was as if the structure itself was dissolving back into nature.
It could have just rearranged itself, like they said it did. Or maybe the Web was changing around her. Responding to her. To what she was becoming.
Ava clutched Book tighter under her arm. “Just you and me now, buddy.” Holding it out in front of her, she waited to see if it’d open. “Any hints on where to find key number two?”
Nothing.
“Yeah, didn’t think it’d be that easy.”
The golden light filtering through the foliage cast dappled shadows across the floor. Every few steps, Ava glanced behind her, half-expecting to see Nos or Ibin following. But the hallway remained empty. Maybe they’d actually respected her decision. Or maybe they were just letting her think she was alone.
After about ten minutes of walking, she reached a fork in the path. One corridor led deeper into the overgrown Baroque section, the other toward what looked like a series of archways opening onto a misty landscape.
Looking down at Book again, she waited. “Any input?”
Nope.
“Good talk.” Shrugging, she sighed. “Well, it kind of worked last time. Eenie, meenie, miney?—”
“Ava! Wait!”
She spun around, instantly on guard. But it wasn’t Nos or Ibin hurrying toward her—it was Bitty, her small wings buzzing frantically as she rushed to catch up. The tiny fae looked winded, her metallic-colored hair disheveled from the exertion.
“What do you want?” Ava demanded, not bothering to hide her suspicion.
Bitty skidded to a halt several feet away, clearly sensing Ava’s hostility. Her wings nervously fluttered behind her. “Nos and Ibin. They insisted someone should go with you.”
“And they sent you? Why?” Ava couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice.
Bitty’s face fell slightly. “I volunteered, actually. They were arguing about who should follow you, and I just—I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable with me?” She fidgeted withher dress hem. “Since I can’t exactly force you to do anything, and I…can’t do anything at all.”
Ava studied the small fae, weighing her options. Bitty seemed harmless enough—no magic, no apparent agenda. Just a perpetually nervous beetle-winged creature who’d been kind enough to help her when she was unconscious.
But still.
Trust no one.
“Why would you want to come with me? You know what I’m trying to do, right? Get the next key? The thing that might help Serrik destroy your entire race?”
Bitty shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture. “Nobody tells me anything important. But I know what it’s like to be alone in the Web.” Her wings drooped slightly. “It’s not good. Not safe.”
“And why should I trust you?”
“Because I don’t matter enough for anyone to use me against you. My life doesn’t matter.” Her response was blunt. And man, if Ava didn’t feel a little bit of herself echoed in that statement. “I’m nobody. Just Bitty. The fae who couldn’t.”
There was something painfully honest in the statement—the resigned tone of someone who’d accepted their place at the bottom.
“They could be tracking you.”
“Probably,” Bitty admitted. “But they could track you anyway. You were with them for a long time. Plenty of time to put a spell on you.”
Ava sighed, running a hand through her hair. Having company, even potentially compromised company, was tempting. The Web was vast and dangerous, and she had no idea where she was going. And if Book wasn’t going to help her, it’d be nice to have somebody to at leasttalkto.
