World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) (22 page)

“Shh!” I said, swatting at it, frantic to make it shut up so
she
wouldn’t hear. So
she
wouldn’t see me. It didn’t matter that I’d defeated her. She’d been so much more powerful than I, and mad. How had I made it through, facing her? Why hadn’t I curled up and died at her feet?

The raven flew off and I followed it for a few panicked feet before forcing myself to stop. I was an Originator. I was the thing Ravana had engineered and something she feared. I had killed her. Even if she was behind that canvas, even if she could see me, it didn’t change the fact that I was now her equal. Or, perhaps, her superior.

I steeled myself and turned around.

The tent flap blew open and there she stood, madness glistening on her skin. “So we meet again, Devany.”

I swallowed my terror, tamped it down hard and straightened my spine. “You’re dead.”

Ravana smiled. “So are you.”

My brain churned furiously, but came up with nothing smart to say. “How is it you know me here?”

“You know me.”

I opened my hands and gestured. “This is the past.”

“Don’t you know how the Slip works by now, little human? It exists everywhere and nowhere. Every time and no time.” She moved toward me and I put up a shield, thickening it with every erg of power I had, which was substantial. She wasn’t able to poke a hole in it as if it were wet tissue paper. Her widened eyes acknowledged this and confidence crept back into me. She snarled. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, but I already know, don’t I? You’re doing what you do best: destroying lives.” She didn’t know what I was. She’d called me ‘little human,’ and her eyes held a hint of confusion.

She gestured and the tent flap fell back into place. A hush fell over the campsite, something more profound than a few dozen sleeping people. She was cutting us off from them, separating me from the living. “Why can I remember your name, but not why I should be afraid of you?”

Heart beating wildly in my chest, I struggled to look aloof. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“You know,” she growled, magic crackling up out of her clenched fists. When she realized she was leaking energy, she relaxed, but her eye sockets were cloudy pits and lightning flashed in their depths. “So that’s how it will be, hmm?”

“That’s exactly how it will be.”

She laughed, tinkling notes in minor keys, scratching her nails across my mental chalkboard. “Go ahead then, little human. Watch me create the monster that will destroy you. Stand by helplessly as I fabricate your death, and bring about the end of this world and the next.”

“Seriously?”

She paused and I must have hit the right amount of sarcasm.

“I mean, what the fuck? I was afraid of you? You?” I laughed, and my laugh was as bothersome to her as hers had been to me. “You’re delusional. Go ahead, play your games. You’re right, I will have to watch because I can’t interfere. This has already happened. It’s past. I already know what you’re doing here. I already know the outcome. You’re the sad, pathetic thing who can’t see she’s fabricating her own demise. And you certainly aren’t a world ender.” I let that sink in, then said, “Go on then. Do what you have to do.” I waved my hand carelessly and the tips of my fingers brushed my bubble.

It fell and she was on me in a flash, claws around my throat, a scream boiling up from her throat.

It hurt. The raven hadn’t hurt me when it clawed me. The fall hadn’t. But Ravana’s fingers bit into the flesh of my neck and it burned as if her fingertips were made of lava. I was pure soul now, dead, true, but soul and it made sense that it hurt. That understanding didn’t mitigate the pain.

I brought my knee up as hard as I could into her groin. She grunted, but it was more pleasure than pain and, grossed out, I thrashed under her. She brought her strength to bear against me, crushing my throat in on itself. But it wasn’t my real throat breaking under her weight and the weight of her magic; it was my soul. She was drinking me in like she’d done the first time I’d met her. She’d stolen a piece of my soul from me then and oh, how it had burned.

I shoved back with my magic, yanking it from the Source and pumping it into her as fast as I could.

Her snarl intensified and for a long, terrified second I worried it wasn’t going to work. Then her hands slipped and when they did, my magic blew her backward, through the tent and out of sight.

I scrambled to my feet, suddenly better without her touching me. Insta-healing. If I didn’t have to be dead to enjoy such a thing, I would’ve loved it.

I put up another bubble and waited, but she didn’t return.

The King floundered up out of the destroyed canvas, his guards rousing from the stupor Ravana had placed them in. I stood in the middle of the chaos searching the dark night, tensed and waiting.

I kept watch the entire night, but she didn’t return.

***

I hadn’t expected to be so affected by Ravana. The memory of my all-consuming terror at the sight of her haunted me as I followed the witches and Wydlings back to Valley’s Head. I didn’t have to endure every minute or mile of the trip, thankfully. There were jagged breaks in time and we skipped miles and hours over the course of minutes. It made me dizzy. It didn’t help that during the breaks, the mind-bending soul-scape bled through, disorienting me and making my eyes burn with its unreality.

My mind elsewhere, I didn’t realize Sephony had stopped until I plowed into her. She didn’t seem to notice, but she did rub her arms as if a ghost had walked over her grave. I peeked around her and gasped. There was so much beauty, I couldn’t take it all in at once.

Directly below, green grass and purple wildflowers spread across the valley floor. A road wended away from us, changing from the packed dirt under our feet to crushed grey rock. Far off to our left, water tumbled hundreds of feet to a lake filled with white sailboats. A river snaked away from the lake, curling through the grass and out of sight. The mountains banding the valley were wreathed in clouds and there was a chill on the air that made me shiver.

The Witch King’s city sparkled in the afternoon light. Buildings shaped like tongues of silver and blue flame licked the azure sky. Elegant grey roads spiraled inward to circle the massive structure in the center of the city. It wasn’t a building so much as a cathedral of blue and silver fire. A massive dome soared over the city, sparking magic.

Sephony’s awe was written all over her face and beyond, Sorgen watched her. It made him proud, her reaction. Proud and horny.

“Onward ho,” I said to no one in particular.

No one moved. Sorgen walked over to Sephony, his hands linked behind his back. “Welcome to Valley’s Head, Sephony.” Her name on his lips was a caress.

She shivered as she pulled her gaze from the city below. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“But even beautiful apples can be rotten inside.”

Oh, burn.

Anger flashed in his eyes, but as quickly as it showed up, it vanished. And then he did something that shocked me to my ghostly toes. He agreed with her. “There are many things wrong with Valley’s Head, not the least of which the way my people argue and backbite. I had very lofty dreams when I was crowned king. Then I grew up.”

I winced. Sephony’s gaze softened and she touched his shoulder, her fingers lingering. “There are some Dreams that will come true whether we believe in them or not. Perhaps yours is such a one.”

“Perhaps.” He didn’t look like he believed her. “Come. I would show you my city. I wager you’ll find there’s more beauty to be found than rot.”

I sighed, seeing her expression. She’d fallen for him and there was nothing I could do to save her. Damn it.

The road widened as we neared Valley’s Head, and dirt ditches gave way to carefully tended shrubbery. Huge gates swung open as our procession neared, soldiers filing out to line the road and greet their king.

It was an impressive welcome.

I watched until they disappeared into the city, and then I retreated to a small copse of trees not far from the entrance to Valley’s Head, intending to wait until time skipped again. I had no interest in watching Sephony and Sorgen make eyeballs at each other. I didn’t want to see their downfall and knew it wasn’t until after Sephony ran from Sorgen that he hunted down the Spider Queen and stole her power.

It wouldn’t be long before time jagged forward. All I had to do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

How long, exactly, would I have to sit here?

I spotted the raven flying overhead. It banked and landed on the ground not far from me. I opened my mouth to yell at it or ask it a question, I wasn’t sure what, when the air around it shivered and warped.

A woman stood where the raven once was, her face warm and oh so familiar.

“Mom?”

***

I expected her arms to go wide, her mouth to curl up into a smile. Instead, she said, “There’s no time. You must change and fly with me into the city.”

Disappointment wrestled with confusion. Confusion won. “What?”

“Change with me. I don’t know why you haven’t before but we have a moment’s worth of safety before the Originator returns.” She gestured impatiently.

“I don’t know what you’re—I can’t. Neutria is gone.” ‘
Mom, I love you. I’ve missed you. I want you to hug me again.
’

“Neutria who? Change into your raven form and come with me. I know you can do it; I smell the magic on you.” Her nose wrinkled. “You reek. What have you been up to?”

Gee, where did I start? “I can’t change into a raven. At least, not that I know of. Mom.”

Something of my despair must have been evident in my voice because her expression softened and she held out her arms. “Come here.”

I did, not caring that she hadn’t hugged me first thing. It didn’t matter because I was hugging her now and it felt so damn good. She’d been so thin before she died, thin enough for me to worry irrationally that I would hurt her if I hugged too hard. She wasn’t too skinny now; her arms were muscled, her body warm and solid and she felt so good.

I didn’t realize I was crying until her hand came up to the back of my head and she said, softly, “Shh, sweetheart. I missed you too.” She let me cry and let me hold her, her urgency from before gone or at least pushed back. When my sobs turned to sniffles, she pulled away and rubbed at my tears with her thumbs. “How is Travis?”

“Good.”

“Is he married yet?”

I shook my head and she sighed. “Your father?”

“Good. He’s not married either. He wrote a book, though.”

Her eyebrows raised. “He finished it, did he?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated, then said, “Does he remember?”

I nodded.

“And what about you?”

“Tom died. We divorced first. I … I found out he’d been cheating on me. Mom, I’m here because Bethany was taken from me by someone I thought was a friend, a witch named Arsinua.”

Her eyes darkened. “You are here to find the eye of the Spider Queen.”

I took a deep breath, surprised. “How did you know?”

“The Queen told me. She did not, however, tell me why you were helping her. She failed to mention to you that this was an impossible task, didn’t she?”

Yeah, of course she did. Spiders. “I knew it was going to be hard.”

She grabbed my arms. “Devany, your body is dying, if it isn’t already dead. This was a fool’s mission.”

“It’s okay, Mom. My body will be fine. I’m not exactly mortal.”

Her fingers tightened on me and in her anger, she shook me. “What did you do?”

I jerked away. “Nothing. Well. I killed Ravana and took her place as Originator.” Her expression wasn’t encouraging, but I plowed on. “She did something to me, you know. That deal you made with her let her mess with me while I was still inside you. It changed me.”

Her hand snaked out and slapped me, hard. “I made no such deal with her.” She spit on the ground. “She grabbed me outside of Flingway and took me to the Slip. I never gave in, Devany, do you hear me? Even when she hurt me, I never gave in to her.”

My hand was on my burning cheek. “Mom. I’m Skriven. Or a hybrid, anyway. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have survived it when Amara stole my soul from me.”

She glared at me and I braced myself to block another slap. Then she curled in on herself, her arms sliding around her stomach. “No. I resisted her. I never gave in. Never. I swear to you I didn’t let her hurt you.” She sank to the ground, her words trailing off into despair.

“Mom, it’s okay. If she hadn’t, I never would have been able to kill her.”

Her expression was bleak. “You aren’t my child.”

“Uh, yeah I am.” This wasn’t how I’d always pictured a fantasy meeting with my dead mother. In my daydreams after she died, I would find her somewhere beyond the veil and we would hug and cry and bask in each other’s love. I never pictured her slapping me and telling me I wasn’t her kid. She shook her head and I squatted down to get eye level with her. “I am your kid. If I were hers, do you think I would’ve had Liam and Bethy? Had a life? Loved you and Dad? No. I would have done what I could to destroy the good things, including you guys. So knock it off and help me get that eyeball so I can get the hell out of here and save my daughter.”