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‘No.’ Her bony fingers clutched tight around her mug. ‘I’m afraid I can’t.’

It took an effort – a heavy, physical effort – not to throw myself at her feet and beg. How could she not eventry? If she had heard the pleas of the unlucky humans suffering under the Mother’s reign, if she’d lost herbrotherto the bitch’s scheming of all people … how could she possibly sit here, resigned and restrained, and just accept the unlucky fate of the world?

‘I don’t understand,’ I breathed. The smell of warm wine and cloves clogged my throat, stealing the air from my lungs. ‘Why can’t you …’

‘The magic you need to destroy bindings,’ Zera said softly, ‘is the same magic that would enable you tocreatethem.’

Only the chickens still clucked cosily in the silence that fell; inside the house, the world appeared to have frozen as understanding hit me.

Create bindings.

Me?

‘And you do notwantto teach me that.’ It seemed the words were spoken by someone else entirely, someone fully in control of herself – someone whose heart wasn’t pounding with the overwhelming sense of loss that washed over me. All the risks we’d taken, all the work we had done … and this was where I’d lose my last hope of ever hearing Creon speak? ‘You don’t want anyone to have that power ever again.’

A cramped smile flitted across her weather-beaten face. ‘I’ve seen the mistake made once too often already.’

‘I’m not the Mother,’ I said, my voice hollow.

‘Achlys and Melinoë weren’t always the Mother, either.’

‘No,’ I managed, ‘but …’

‘They had suchlovelyideas, Emelin.’ The bitterness in her voice made me flinch. ‘End all wars. Peace and prosperity forever. Korok loved it so much, hung on to every empty word they spoke – and I think they truly believed it, those days. I think they were truly the saviours of the world in their own minds.’

That frosty pale, doll-faced creature, with her porcelain laughs and her cruel games … I shivered. ‘So then what changed?’

‘Her son died. Her first son, that is.’

The story Creon had told me in the pavilion, all those months ago; somehow I’d managed to forget most of it. A son, indeed, half fae and half god, killed by humans.

An ill-conceived plan that subsequently sparked the War of the Gods.

‘Why did they kill him?’ I said hoarsely. ‘Creon’s version of the story said they were jealous that Korok no longer spent any time in his own cities, but …’

‘Yes,’ Zera said with a small scoff, ‘I imagine that is the story Achlys and Melinoë prefer to tell.’

‘So what happened?’

‘The fool ignored his people.’ Her face twisted into a sneer of what wasalmostanger – but it lacked the sting of true fury, ending up a violent sadness instead. ‘Spent all his time dallying around the courts with his newfound fae family and forgot to keep an eye on the humans he’d left behind. Morhall was starving. There were riots all over his territory. We couldn’t do much on his lands, and he laughed off every request to come back and take care of the chaos. Finally, he sent the boy to look into the matter.’

I realised I was holding my breath.

‘The little prick took after his mother,’ Zera said slowly. ‘He was only supposed to report back and leave the rest of it to Korok. Instead, he decided to solve the issues himself by killing an innocent family member of every rioter he encountered. A disincentive, I suppose.’

A bitter laugh escaped me. ‘Death isn’t a disincentive to people who are already dying.’

‘So it turned out.’ She took a small sip of hot wine, as if to gather courage. ‘There were still a good number of godsworn human mages in Korok’s lands around that time. Banding together, they were powerful enough to defeat him. But the battle escalated, as battles do …’

‘And he died,’ I finished.

‘Yes. And suddenly world peace no longer mattered as much to Achlys and Melinoë – not while they were looking for heads to put on stakes.’

The Mother.No other names had been relevant to her anymore, no memory of the individuals with hopes and dreams she’d been. Nothing but an empty shell of revenge – nothing but a mother’s rage.

‘Do you understand, Emelin?’ Zera’s voice was quiet, but it seeped into my very skin with its unsettling weight. ‘I don’t doubt your good intentions, dear. I know you wouldn’t hesitate to swear you’d never create a binding yourself, that you truly believe you’d never attempt to find new and malicious ways to use the magic. But neither of us knows how you might be hurt in the future – and I know that as soon as Achlys and Melinoë were hurt, nothing mattered to them except their own pain and suffering.’

‘You truly hate her,’ I said hoarsely.