Wystwood

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.