Marikit raged.
"YOU WEAK, PATHETIC FOOLS! I GAVE YOU POWER! I GAVE YOU PURPOSE!"
"You gave them lies." Glad floated before her, calm and steady. "It's over, Marikit. Surrender."
"Surrender? To YOU?" Marikit laughed—a wild, desperate sound. "I've lived 400 years. I've survived wars, betrayals, centuries of hiding. I won't surrender to a viral sensation who got lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it." Ariel appeared beside Glad. "Community did. Love did. Everything you rejected."
Marikit's eyes flickered between them. "You always choose her. Even after 80 years with me. You choose the novelty."
"I choose kindness. I choose honesty. I choose someone who doesn't lie and manipulate and destroy." Ariel's voice was sad, not angry. "I'm sorry you never learned that, Marikit. I really am."
For a moment—just a moment—something flickered in Marikit's eyes. Regret? Longing?
Then it hardened.
"If I can't have you, no one will."
She lunged—not at Glad, but at Ariel.
Ancient claws extended. Centuries of fury concentrated.
Glad moved without thinking.
Intercepted.
Took the blow meant for Ariel.
And fell.