Wystwood

84. Fingers for a lute

Ada was discharged from the infirmary not long afterwards, just as likely due to her restless fidgeting as the faes' need for more space for the injured. Armestrong resolutely refused to leave Min's side, and so with her directions, the wystwood box, and her grandmother's letter, Ada left to find Lark and Solen.

Nobody in the infirmary had asked after Hester, and Ada felt a lump in her throat as the scent of dried herbs faded through the passages. Perhaps in the chaos, they hadn't noticed her absence. Or maybe they assumed she was still in the city, helping those struck down by the Hounds. Ada swallowed and held the memory of the woman's death like a weight within her chest. But she reasoned that the news could wait as four fae hurried past her, baring between them a stretcher and an unconscious boy. Ada recognised his mop of blond hair with a jolt. It was the child who had brought her Spindlwen's costumes, though now his shoulder was shattered and his arm dangled at an obscene angle.

Ada walked on through the maze of tunnels, knowing every twist and turn before they came. She reached the corridor of rooms and walked past their doorways like a spectre, the echoes of sobs and wails following in her wake. Their drapes had been torn down and, in each room, tens of fae huddled around a single fire, some spooning soup to their companions' lips and whispering words of encouragement. Mouths opened and shut like clockwork, though their eyes stared blank and distant.

It seemed an age before Ada approached the entrance into the dining hall. The long tables had been pushed aside, and whilst the ceiling was still hung with vegetables and herbs, they swayed above a crowd of hundreds. Bedrolls had been laid out, one next to the other, along the length of the room and every one was occupied. Nobody was in immediate pain, but it was clear that most of the fae were at various stages of healing. Some were adjusting splints on their legs, while others nursed steaming cups of tea and broth. Children sat close to their mothers, and though there were no tears, there was neither any laughter.

"Ada!" called a voice and, from the far side of the room, she saw Solen stretched up and waving.

She hurried over in time to hear Diane's scolding. She had dragged Solen back onto her bedroll and was retying an unravelled bandage. "Honestly, it's like you don't even want to recover! Just because you managed to sneak away from me and climb up that ladder, doesn't mean you're all better. It's going to take—"

"Time to heal," Solen finished, wincing slightly as Diane secured her bandage with a double knot. "And I didn't sneak away from you! Stars know I'm not letting us be parted from this day onward."

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to her lips before Diane could swat her back down again. Diane's scowl dissolved into a small smile, and she smoothed Solen's short hair from her forehead.

"Eugh, go find some shady corner," said Lark over Ada's shoulder. "I would count to ten but I seem to have misplaced half the digits."

Ada spun around and threw her arms around the boy's neck, her toes almost leaving the ground as he returned the hug and croaked a laugh. She drew back immediately, scared she'd hurt him, and saw Lark quickly tuck his bandaged wrist back into its sling.

"Lark," Ada breathed. "I'm so glad you're..."

Lark raised an eyebrow. "Don't you dare say in one piece."

Solen snorted a laugh, and as they settled down on the bedrolls, it almost felt like they were back in the Bonneville. Lark had brought back a stack of broth bowls, including an extra for himself, which he eventually conceded to Ada. As they nibbled on their bread crusts, Ada wished Raeph could be there with them. She wondered if he was as worried as she was for him.

As if sensing her distance, Diane reached out and squeezed her arm. "I've been meaning to say thank you, Ada. It was such a horrific night, but without your courage, Solen would still be trapped. I would still be chained to that brutish fiend of a husband."

"I would still have two thumbs," Lark said around a mouthful of stale bread.

Solen jabbed him in the ribs. "Two thumbs but no me!"

"We've all had to make sacrifices." He shrugged, dodging another elbow. "All I'm saying is that for all this Stone Circle's apparent magic, they can't seem to figure out how to attach five simple fingers and a hand back onto a wrist?"

Solen joined his laugher, but Ada could feel the cold edge of Lark's words as they sliced through his facade of foolishness. She caught Diane's eye, who nodded sympathetically and gestured to a nearby corner. Something small was propped against the stone, mostly covered by a woollen blanket apart from a wooden scroll of sculpted flowers. Lark's lute.

An abrupt wave of sadness washed over Ada, threatening to tug her down into an ocean she hadn't known she'd drifted so deep. She rubbed at her eyes, not having to feign her exhaustion, but also to smear the wetness away. If Lark wanted to grieve with laughter rather than tears, then she would try her best to drift alongside him with a smile. So, Ada grinned as widely as she could and offered Lark the rest of her bread crusts. When he took them, his eyes had a faint sheen, but he looked all the more grateful for the friends around him.

Now that Diane had broached the night before, questions continued with scarcely a moment for Ada to think. She recounted every step and word as best she could, starting from Yue's betrayal at the Barracks and ending at the compass. She left out Min's crown of salt, along with the almost-kiss from Raeph, but didn't miss the glitter in Solen's eye.

"How is our dear Raephy?" Solen asked. "After all that, he didn't deign to battle his way down here just to see his friends?"

"I wanted him to come with me," Ada said, "but he refused. He wanted to stay in Wysthaven and help with the Hounds. The Hounds that can be helped, I mean. Young ones, who didn't know any better. Or maybe they did... or should have. After the banquet, it's difficult for me to have anything close to pity for anyone who wore a chain around their neck. But I guess Raeph has seen so many of them..."

Diane's lips were pressed into a thin line, and she breathed a slow breath before conceding, "There are many young Hounds who either lost their way or were forced onto the path by their families. I believe that they would be very fortunate to have Raeph's guidance toward some semblance of recovery."

"You're sweet-hearted, love," Solen said, turning Diane's head so that she could kiss her once more.

"Again!" cried Lark. "This is a public space!"

At the same time, a firm voice called across the hall that the sage-lights would fade in ten minutes. All around them, fae retrieved their dinner bowls and prepared for bed, and Ada wondered where the time had slipped away to. She thought again to Raeph, and hoped he had somewhere safe to sleep.

Ada was unfurling a spare bedroll that Diane had found for her when she caught sight of a pair of dark eyes from across the hall. Her hands stilled, then wrinkled the sheet between her fingers as she watched Yue scan the room. The woman's black eyes came to a rest on Lark, and she watched him for a while as he struggled to rake his hair into an awkward braid.

Then, as if sensing her stare, Yue's eyes snapped to Ada. Her face was sallow and pale, as if she also hadn't slept since her return to the Stone Circle. She didn't look apologetic, yet also, she didn't glare or scowl. She simply held Ada's eyes a beat longer, then turned and walked from the hall.

Ada had expected to be furious when she faced Yue again, but as the sage-lights faded into darkness, a strange calm settled over her. What was done had been done, and Raeph was still alive and fighting. But this time, his fight was for peace. Raeph believed that others could be redeemed no matter their past mistakes and, even as she fell asleep, Ada found she thought the same.