48. Ruin of the Bonneville

Many words had been said of Raeph—traitor, bandit, wolf—and almost all had been spat or whispered from curled lips with covert glances. But these were not the words that came to mind as Ada watched the man charge into the burning Bonneville in search of his companions. There was only Armestrong's voice, tired and measured, when they had sat together in the taproom after dark.

After Armestrong revealed Raeph's fealty to the Lady of Wysthaven, there had been several moments of silence, and even now, Ada could make little sense of it. But her next question hadn't been Why? or How can that be? She had only gazed through the fogged windows and murmured, "Then, how can you trust him?"

Armestrong had smiled a smile that spoke of sorrows Ada had never experienced, a turn of expression borne from a world she had never before known. The candles burned low and the city was asleep. Armestrong answered as softly as the mist that curled between the stars.

"We've shared our names together, all four of us. Our true names."

Ada's brow creased, at first confused, and then remembering Min's warning.

"I thought only relatives knew each other's names in the fae world?" she asked.

Armestrong's smile vanished, her eyes flashing brighter than the moon.

"We're as good as family," she replied, and bustled away from the bar, leaving Ada alone.

It was only after Armestrong had washed up, blown out all candles but one, and had started her ascent of the staircase that she turned, ruddy cheeks paled by the shadows. "We're all we've got left in this city."

Ada had sat in the darkness for some time after Armestrong left, staring down at the bar's carved flowers that wove wreaths up from the floorboards. At first, she thought she would never be able to relate to Armestrong's words, which had been so laden with emotion they had hung in the air long after she had gone. But as sleep had slunk into Ada's own body, and she finally retreated to bed, she realised that Armestrong's feelings were not foreign at all.

Ada's siblings had all been born in the same house to the same parents, raised together and related by blood. She may not have lived a life similar to the fae bandits—and considered herself fortunate to say so—but that didn't mean their differences kept them from understanding one another. Family was family, in blood or by choice.

Now, as the Bonneville blazed like an autumnal bonfire, Armestrong's words rang clear in Ada's mind. Raeph forged his way into his burning home, kicking aside a smouldering stool, and went to find his family. His decision left Ada shaking, smoke catching on shards of broken glass as it cast her hair ashen. Though, as Ada knew all too well, a brave decision is not always a wise one.

"Raeph," she cried as she lost sight of his dark form amongst the wreckage. He had been heading for the stairwell, where roiling smoke flooded down its spirals. "Raeph! You'll be burnt alive in there!"

There was a great crackle and the groaning of wood giving way. Ada hadn't realised how close she had come to the doorframe until a curtain of flames swept down from above and embers leapt out towards her. She stumbled back, eyes raw from the heat, and a second bookcase toppled down. It blocked the entrance, charred black but unwilling to give as the fire ate away its pages.

"Raeph," Ada tried again, but could scarcely hear her own voice above the cackling fire.

She looked around, wild and desperate, wishing for rain and clouds and thunder. But the sky was as empty as the street. Ada was beginning to feel her madness from the morning return as she whirled around in circles, searching for anyone who could help with the blaze, and finding nothing but vacant windows and bolted gate posts.

It was worse than when Ada had seen the dead fae strung up from the tower, and no one in the city had appeared to notice besides herself and Solen. Not a single fae had looked at the man who had been ripped away from the earth and silhouetted against the sun. Ada had no desire to see such a thing again, and if she could, she would prevent it now.

As smoke billowed out from the doorway, Ada hurried down the street, feeling like a ghost amid a world of ash and embers. She took the corner sharply, not caring for stealth as she ran across the cobblestones. The pillars of smoke rising from the inner city were thinning, but if there was the rattle of Hound chains, Ada couldn't hear it over the roaring fire.

She reached the back alley quickly, recognising the shady passage for the oily puddles gathered around the gutters. The scent of smoke lured her to the Bonneville's courtyard wall, still spotted with cracks and deep divots. Tearing her cloak off her shoulders, Ada flung it over the wall as best she could. Its hem caught on a stone, but its velvet body rippled down onto the other side, and the daggers in its pocket thudded against the brick.

Ada followed, thrusting the toe of her boot into the highest crack she could reach and boosted herself up against the sheer wall. Her fingers scrabbled for a stutter of seconds, skin peeling off around her nails and her palm's bandage fluttering loose. Then they found their places, digging deftly into the brick and refusing to slip as Ada hauled her body up.

She hunched over the ledge, hoisting one leg across and then the other. Her clothes had long since dried in the fire-heat, so there was little to weigh her down as she found her purchase, and then plunged into the courtyard.

Ada landed heavily, her breath huffing out of her lungs, which was followed by a mouthful of smoke. Coughing, she doubled over, fumbling around until she found her cloak.

The flames looked smaller here, not yet engulfing the walls or bursting from the windows, as though the fire had been set from the main street. Better yet, the back door hung open, a drift of smoke slithering out towards the vegetable allotments. Ada hurried over, pulling her cloak across her mouth and nose as she took a step into the Bonneville.

The entire room was in ruins. Bottles had been smashed across the floorboards and loose book pages quivered within the smoke like burnt-out butterflies. Solen's red settee was now scorched black, and a broken jar of honey lay in pieces by the hearth. The pub was deserted, with no sign of Raeph.

Ada drew back her cloak, and as soon as her lips parted, ash seemed to coat her tongue. "Raeph!"

"Ada?" replied a voice, muffled and distant.

"Hello?" called Ada, scanning the room again, but finding nobody.

"Get out of the way," commanded the voice, followed by the grating of stone. "Lark, move that blasted thing!"

A plank of wood splintered from an upstairs landing, and with a snap it came tumbling down through the air, huffing out a spell of smoke and sending Ada stumbling backwards. Her eyes were watering so steadily that the shifting of stone in front of her looked like a mirage at first. But then a figure emerged from behind it and clambered up a staircase, dragging with her the singed hem of her patchwork apron.

"Armestrong," Ada gasped, reaching out a hand for the woman to grasp onto as she staggered into the courtyard. Her whole body was trembling.

She had emerged from the door leading beneath the pub, and Ada saw she had been right to suspect it a pantry as she spied shelves sparsely spaced with plucked chickens and dried spices. But they were blocked by the body of another fae, whose back was hunched under the weight of his lute. Lark limped up behind Armestrong, waving away Ada's offered hand, even though he winced when the heat from the pub hit him.

"Are they gone?" Armestrong asked, eyes darting and chest heaving.

"Are who gone?" Ada tried to manoeuvre the woman away from the wreckage, but Armestrong tugged away, staring straight into the blaze that was ravaging her home.

"The Hounds," Lark muttered. "The Hounds were here."

He came to Armestrong's side, placing a hand upon her shoulder as a swell of dark smoke snaked around their ankles.

"I didn't see any," Ada said. "But Raeph went in there. I think he may have been looking for you."

"Oh," choked Armestrong. "Oh, stars above."

Ada stared at the two fae, and then realised something was missing. "Where is—"

Her question was cut short by the shattering of glass. They all leapt back, the remnants of a window pane scraping down from the floor above. The scent of jasmine had once drifted through those windows, but now there was only dust and cinders. They swirled out into the air, hanging like a cloud soon to be parted by rain, before a body clad in scorched leather sent it spiralling.

Raeph crashed down into the courtyard, hair matted and face streak with soot. He fell to his knees and his mask sagged down from his mouth. For a moment, everyone could only stare, stilled by shock, horror, or both. But a squeak from Armestrong brought them back, the softest sound Ada had ever heard her make, and the woman was soon down in front of Raeph, clasping her hands upon his shoulders.

They met each other's gaze for a short second, wide-eyed and gasping. Then Armestrong spoke, her voice shaking with the strain to keep it steady.

"They took her, Raeph. Solen is with the Hounds."

"No," breathed Raeph, his knuckles tensing white. "No, they can't have come here."

"Look around you," Armestrong wailed, her head slumping down. Even though her eyes were tilted from the smoke, Ada saw that they were wet and red-raw. "She wanted us to get to the pantry first, thought she could take them on after they burst through the door." Her shoulders shuddered. "I shouldn't've never let her try."

Raeph stood, running fingers through his tangled hair before clutching at his temples. He swore, shouting it into the burning house and letting it die within the flames.

"How long ago?" he demanded.

Armestrong was shaking her head, still knelt upon the ground. "What if they take her to the tower?"

Raeph slammed his boot against the doorframe, watching it quake and splinter. "They won't. They have no proof she's been casting, and the Lady will have little interest without it."

"Where then?" said Lark. Then quieter, "Will they torture her?"

Armestrong let out a howl, fingers clawing at her ragged apron. Raeph pounded a fist into the pub, his skin breaking as he hissed, "Let me think. I need to think."

Ada took a step forwards, and the fire roared against her as she said, "I know who might be able to find out where Solen is."