81. Rise and the fall

Ada didn't want to believe it, but with each passing second, the truth of the Lady's words became clear in her aching head. Every clue had been presented to her from the moment she had tumbled from the Wishing Well; the dying Wystwood forest, the horror of the fae when they saw her face, the mad seers locked away from the city.

"So, the Stone Circle have sent you on a fool's errand," sighed the Lady. "A name is a powerful thing. But I am not the Saltsworn. Have they truly never realised? Or are they left to deceive themselves in their desperation? Hear this clearly: there can be no Saltsworn without magic. There has not been one since before you were born, and yet you were sent out to find the impossible without a care to your life or safety. This is the blind cruelty that magic brings."

The finality in hearing from the Lady of Wysthaven herself that she was not the Saltsworn came as a blow harder than the dagger's hilt. Ada felt as if she could scarcely draw in a breath, her head pounding and her chest cinched tight.

"They wish to control me?" the Lady went on. "I belong to no one but myself."

"Just like Wysthaven should belong to its own people!" said a small, bold voice from the end of the chamber. "You can't control us any longer!"

"What's this?" cried the Lady in astonishment. "Is she the best you could gather as an accomplice?"

At the sound of the little girl's voice, Ada had turned her head so sharply that her vision swam out of focus. But then, there Min was, standing inside the chamber and facing the throne.

"I created this city, child," said the Lady plainly. "Everything you've ever known has been moulded by me."

"Even if you did make it, it doesn't belong to you," repeated Min, her voice echoing around the domed ceiling.

"How could you come here, Min?" Ada croaked. "We made a deal. You said you'd leave."

Min frowned, her small hands bunching in her skirts. "I said I wouldn't enter through the doors with you, and I didn't. But I wasn't going to leave you alone, Ada. We made a promise."

Ada swore, and the moment the word left her lips, several things happened at once. First was the stray sunbeam, which pierced into the chamber from the wide opening behind the throne, glinting on the iron dagger still lying on the floor, and on a thin glass vial tucked within Min's fist. It was filled to the brim with a pale power that Ada recognised. Burdock root.

The next was the Lady's furious scream, for she had noticed the vial before Ada, and the sight of Min's magic had released a storm of anger locked beneath her frail ribs. She spoke very quickly, "Do not let her use that filth!"

At first, Ada was confused, but then a cold horror took its place as Raeph rose from beside her and took two wide steps between the throne's roots.

"Raeph," Ada gasped, watching Min try to dart away before her wrist was easily shackled within Raeph's fingers. "No! You don't have to listen to her."

Min started to scream, kicking wildly at Raeph's legs as he twisted her arm and plucked the vial of powdered burdock root from her hand. He didn't look at the girl, nor at Ada or the Lady, but his eyes were dark and dangerously empty.

Ada turned back to the Lady, almost shaking with fury as she forced out, "Please, stop it. She's only a child."

The Lady was clutching the ebony dagger in one hand, and had seized the little wystwood box once again from its hiding place. Ada thought she could hear the heart beating from within, but it may have been her own frenzied pulse rushing through her ears.

"You deign to think that he will listen to you?" breathed the Lady, unnervingly quiet in spite of Min's screaming. "You think he is yours? That he has not told me of you? I allowed him to leave Wysthaven that morning he travelled up into the Wystwood, for I knew he would return again to me. Did he tell you why he was waiting? He went there to kill you."

Ada heard Raeph's sharp intake of breath from behind her, but she didn't shift her eyes from the Lady's.

"He was hurting and grieving and felt betrayed," Ada said, knowing, despite it all, that the next words were entirely true. "And I've forgiven him. His actions, for better or worse, are behind him. It's what he chooses to do now that make him who he truly is."

"No, Ada!" sobbed Min, her feet kicking feebly at the roots.

"Please," Ada breathed again, though she did not know to whom she was entreating.

The Lady's black eyes flicked between them, and then down at the little box on her lap. She flipped it open and reached inside, her finger coming back brown and sticky, and Ada felt a sickness rising in her chest.

"Put the child in the iron necklace," the Lady said.

"No!" cried Ada, but her voice was lost to Min's fresh screaming.

Raeph's eyes had blown bloodshot, and he stood still and rigid, not yet following the Lady's command, though not releasing Min either. A tide of hope surged through Ada, and she tried to stand, but found her legs had grown numb from kneeling.

"Did you fail to hear me, dog?" the Lady said, and this time, her hand closed around the rotting heart, her fingernails burying into severed arteries.

A shadow passed over Raeph's face, and he took a slow step, then another, dragging Min behind him as he walked around the throne towards the hole in the wall. Ada urged feeling back into her legs, now scrambling away from the throne, her hands grasping roots and dragging her body across the chamber floor.

"You have a choice, Raeph!" she sobbed, hot tears blistering her face. "Please don't do this."

Ada saw his feet falter, but he didn't stop. The Lady watched on, still sat on her throne, looking only mildly annoyed that Raeph was taking so long now that the threat of magic had disappeared. She didn't even demand that Ada return to the throne, knowing that she was utterly powerless to restrain Raeph.

He had reached the hole behind the throne with Min in tow, her toes barely touching the floor as he held her up by the collar. Ada could see the low step against the wall, leading to a short stretch of wood and the fainting chiming of metal.

"Raeph," Ada gasped, staggering to her feet in the centre of the chamber. He turned his face from the sky, his eyes meeting hers between the wystwood branches, just as they had in the forest above the valley so long ago. The darkness and the danger remained, but behind it, Ada saw a deep and devastating pain. In those eyes, she recognised the man she had come to know. She parted her lips, barely breathing, and said, "You're not alone anymore."

A great sob wracked his chest, his arm trembling, and then he dropped Min. She landed inside the chamber, her heels just missing the step into empty air as she pressed her back to the solid stone wall. The blood had drained down her neck and her breath came in short, quick gasps.

"How dare you!" screamed the Lady of Wysthaven, her fingers now a stark white around the ebony dagger. So possessed was she with Raeph that she didn't see Ada striding towards the throne, dried tears and overwhelming fury, the iron dagger that she had picked up from the chamber floor striking down.

Ada felt it when the blade pierced Samael's heart, its iron cutting slow and soft into the clotted meat. The heart gave a faint little thump, then it blackened and dissolved into dust.

Raeph staggered forwards as if stabbed himself, his stare fixed upon the now empty box, an unreadable emotion twisting his face. Ada's hands shook violently and she dropped the iron dagger, backing away between the roots. Her arms found Min once she reached the chamber wall, and tucking the girl behind her back, she looked over to Raeph and prayed that she had made the right decision.

The Lady of Wysthaven sat, small and ancient, within Raeph's shadow. She glared up at him, and the sun glinted wickedly in his eyes. Without turning his head, he said, "Bring the knife here, Ada?"

Min clutched at Ada's hip, but she was already shaking her head. "No. No more bloodshed. She built her reign upon a history of blood and death, and we shouldn't be a part of that. Not anymore."

Raeph stared at the Lady for a moment longer, an old hunger still churning within his dark eyes and his knuckles flexed white. But then he turned, nodded once, and stalked back from the throne.

"We can bring her down from her tower," Ada suggested. "Let her see her city for what it truly is. The more loyal Hounds may prove a problem at first, but—"

Ada was cut off by a hysterical screech, and she turned to see the ancient fae wrench her decrepit body from its throne. The wystwood box tumbled to the floor, though the dagger was still in her hand, as she came hurtling between the roots towards Raeph.

Ada's mind went blank, her temple throbbing as if her skull was about to split open, and only three words would come to her mind. A power welled beneath her tongue. Ada lunged forwards, but Raeph was still turning to look at the throne, and she watched as the ebony dagger came arcing down to meet his heart.

"Raeph Vy Fenn!" Ada cried. "Move!"

Reaph's legs jerked to the side even as his head continued to turn, and the ebony dagger pierced through empty air. A sob of relief broke from Ada's throat as her hands finally found his, and then Raeph was tugging her against him, his heart beating strong and clear beneath his tattered shirt.

Her charge unbroken without Raeph's body in its path, the Lady stumbled towards the hole in the wall, her fingers flailing like claws through empty air, unable to find purchase. Ada knew at that moment that the old fae couldn't be saved, and wanted to turn her head so that she wouldn't have to see her fall from the tower.

But then she heard the small gasp, high like a bell within her head, and she felt the bellow erupt from Raeph's chest. Ada couldn't stop the Lady falling from the tower, just as she couldn't stop the fae's hand from grasping Min's smock and snatching the child out with her into empty air.