Eden Riverwallow's Arc

Chapter 11 of 18

Eden waited three days for an answer. On the fourth morning, a black ribbon lay across her doorstep. She did not remember hearing anyone approach. Willow drifted over her shoulder and studied it. "That's an invitation," Willow said. "Or a summons. Hard to tell with him." Eden picked it up. The cloth smelled like old smoke. She thought of the corrupted woods between her cottage and the keep, still black at the moss line, still full of small dead things. Crossing them alone had almost killed her last time. She could not do it again without cover. She went to the cupboard. This time it opened. Inside sat the silver raven cup, cleaned and filled to the brim with dark red wine. Beside it lay the triangular vial of Maleficit's blood and holy water. The cottage had chosen for her. "It wants you to bring both," Willow said. "Together." Eden understood. She poured the entire vial into the cup. The wine hissed once, then went still. She capped the cup with her palm and stepped outside. The woods let her pass. Dead leaves crunched under her boots, but nothing moved in the brush. The corruption thinned as she climbed. By the time the keep's broken spires rose over the trees, the air smelled like rain again. Ivy hung from the shattered windows. The front doors stood open for her. Maleficit waited on the stone floor of the great hall. He was smaller than she remembered, or thinner. His red coat hung loose on his shoulders. His eyes were tired. "You sang to my grandmother," Eden said. "I sang to a woman who looked like you." His voice scraped. "Before the seat. Before the wood was mine." She walked to him and held out the cup. "Then drink what she would have given you. Not tribute. Not an oath. Just this." He looked at the cup a long time. He knew what was in it. He could smell his own blood. He could smell the holy water. He could smell the compulsion. "You are ending me," he said. "I'm letting you stop." He took the cup in both hands. He drank slowly, like a man finishing a long meal. When he lowered it, his mouth was red. He sat down on the stone. Then he lay down. His black hair spread around him. The tired went out of his face first. Then the rest. Eden knelt beside him. She waited until his chest stopped moving. Centuries, gone quiet in a room. She stood. The keep felt different already, lighter, unclaimed. Outside, the corruption in the woods would lift. Kane was still in her cottage, still wounded. She had killed the thing that had been watching her from the trees since she arrived, and she had done it with his own hand offered as a cup. She walked out of the hall with the empty cup and did not look back.