Author's Note:

Chapter 25 on the 25th of December, the coincidence pleases me more than it should.  Although this chapter is definitely not exactly the place to look for your Christmas cheer...

Either way, merry Christmas and thanks for reading!  Hope you have a good one!

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Anya left Jim at the entrance to the castle. She was feeling oddly shy about the whole situation. Was Jim developing some sort of tender feelings for her? Her heart leapt a bit at the thought, until she reminded herself that he did not even really know who she was.

That was the problem. Jim knew the duplicitous false version of Anya, not the real Anya. She liked the old, real Anya better than this Anya who she had been forced to become. Maybe the old Anya would deserve the regard of someone like Jim.

Yet, was she truly someone different, or had all the duplicity she had discovered inside herself been in her all along? Had it been hidden with the resentment and violence she had discovered in herself?

Perhaps she had never been forgiving or kind or good. Perhaps she had simply been lying to herself, pretending that she was what she wanted to believe herself to be.

Anya shook her head. It did not matter. Who she was did not change what she had to do.

Anya retreated to her room. She lay on her bed with her eyes on the ceiling. She was feeling drained, probably from maintaining the shield. She did not feel like sleeping, but she also did not feel like facing anyone else. Without quite realizing that it was happening, Anya drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

A loud noise took Anya from her sound sleep into a dark room. The last vestiges of her dreams clung to her, and for a moment she was confused about where she was. Anya heard voices in the hall, which was unusual. The castle walls were thick and sounds rarely travelled through.

Anya had a feeling of dread deep in her stomach. She quickly lit a candle and wrenched the door open.

Footsteps and a light quickly moved towards her. Hanna's frightened face revealed itself in the light.

"Hanna? What's wrong?" Anya asked, and the near panic in her voice was real.

"Lady Theresa! Help her! I'm going for help." Hanna gasped, and she continued on at a frantic pace.

Anya felt raw fear slide up her spine and a sick feeling settle in her gut. Had Lady Theresa drank from the brandy? Had Lord Wildwood?

Anya broke into a run in the direction that Hanna had come. Her candle flickered and sputtered, and she slowed down so that she would not be lost in the dark in the halls of Wildwood. She could feel cold sweat on her brow.

Anya reached a junction between two hallways and she realized that she did not know which way to go.

"Wildwood! Stop this," she heard Lady Theresa's voice faintly. The desperate cry told Anya what she needed to know. Something was wrong with Lord Wildwood and there was a high likelihood that Anya knew exactly what was wrong.

Anya moved to chase Lady Theresa's voice and then stopped herself. What was she doing? If she went, she would be obliged to help. Being there would increase his chance of survival and prolong her ordeal. Perhaps, if she left Lady Theresa there alone with Lord Wildwood, he would manage to do away with himself before help arrived.

If Lord Wildwood died, Anya would be free. She would get the twins and they would flee the country. They could go far from the people that she had wronged and from the people who had wronged her, far from poor Lady Theresa and the despicable Thorne.

No one would know that Anya had heard Lady Theresa. Anya could take the wrong hall and claim that she had not known where she was going. She could claim ignorance. It was a lie, but what was one more lie on top of all the lies that she had told already?

Anya moved slowly in the wrong direction.

Yet Anya could still hear Lady Theresa's distressed voice ringing through her head. Anya closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She could not just turn her back on Lady Theresa. Or Lord Wildwood.

Anya towards the hall where she had heard the voice.

* * * * *

Anya ran down the hall and rounded the corner. She nearly tripped over Lady Theresa. The hall was dark except for her light and the shadows on the walls echoed the surreal play laid out before her.

Lady Theresa was clinging to Lord Wildwood as if her life, or his, depended upon it. He was trying to dislodge his wife. It was clear that only his fear of hurting her allowed her to keep her grasp on his arm. His face looked as desperate as Lady Theresa's voice.

It was clear that he had consumed enough of the potion for it to have its full effect. Anya stood back and stared at what was happening before her, unsure what to do.

"Wildwood! What is the matter with you!?" Lady Theresa gasped.

"I'm a failure, and you'll be better off without me. Wildwood will be better off without me."

"No, you're not!" Lady Theresa argued, confused and pleading as she clung to him. "I love you! Don't hurt yourself! There's something the matter with you."

It was happening exactly as Anya had hoped and she hated everything about it. It was too cruel. There had to be a better way. She should have been more creative, found something else. Her vague rationalizations about how his death would be a relief for him had led to this scene. Anya hated herself for the coward that she was.

Yet she stood there, clenching her hands and idly watching.

"There is something the matter with me. I can't possibly change anything. The world is full of corruption and there's nothing that I can do about it. The king will be I overthrown and I will fail."

He began walking, l dragging Lady Theresa along with him. Anya suddenly realized that he was heading toward the door to his study. Did he plan to throw himself from the tower?

Lady Theresa spoke again, sounding desperate. "The world is a better place with you in it. Look at how happy your people are! Look at the orphans you rescue, like Matt! Look how you let wizards learn here! Look how you helped me! I would be back under Francine's control or dead, replaced by that evil witch, if it was not for you!"

He smiled down at Lady Theresa, but his smile was so sad that Anya thought it might break her heart. "I wish that were true. I love you, Theresa, but I don't deserve you. Forgive me."

"Wildwood! Don't be an idiot, I need you! I don't want to live without you! I almost lost you once."

Lord Wildwood looked as if he would cry, and he finally dislodged Lady Theresa. "You'll be better off without me. You'll see."

"No, Wildwood! Stop it! Why are you doing this?" she cried as he made for the stairs to his tower.

"Keaton!" Anya spun around and watched as Jim ran around the corner and into the circle of her candle's light.

"Don't try to stop me, Jim. It's hopeless," Lord Wildwood said without looking backwards.

Lady Theresa was crying. "There's something wrong with him. He's trying to hurt himself!" Anya's chest was tight and every breath was painful as she watched Theresa's jerking sobs.

"What? Keaton, what are you thinking?" Jim asked in a tone perilously close to panic.

Lord Wildwood wrenched open the door to the tower and hurried inside. Lady Theresa cried, "Don't let him go up. He'll seal it magically and we'll never reach him."

Jim nodded. "Of course," he said, and so quick that Anya barely knew what had occurred, he ran towards his friend. He tackled Lord Wildwood and both men went to the ground. Lord Wildwood fought back ferociously. Anya flinched as she heard the sound of fist striking flesh.

"Theresa?" Lady Daphne ran down the corridor with her husband in tow. They very nearly tripped over Anya as they rushed by. "What is going on? Hanna is hysterical!"

Sir Thomas did not even pause to hear Lady Theresa's chocked reply. He sprinted towards the two wrestling men and tried to wrest them apart without success.

"Grab Keaton. Something's wrong with him," Jim ground out.

Sir Thomas immediately did as Jim had said and the two of them held the struggling Lord Wildwood to the floor. Lady Theresa half crawled over next to her husband's head and cradled it. She spoke to him in a soft voice that Anya could not hear. Lady Daphne stood over her sister, wringing her hands fretfully.

Jim looked around and spied Anya. "Go out to the stable and fetch Mister Allendale and some rope," he said in a voice that booked no argument. Any desire that might have remained to allow things to progress evaporated. She wanted them to save Lord Wildwood. She did not want him to die.

Anya ran through the halls and out the front door as quickly as her candle allowed her. Once outside, the full moon, hanging low in the sky illuminated her path. She reached the stables quickly and pushed open the door.

"Mister Allendale!" she cried, hoping that he would be in there.

"He's not here, obviously. It's the middle of the night," said a sullen voice from above.

"Where is he? I need rope." She supposed that she had not been thinking clearly.

"I can get you rope," the man said. A light flared above. The man moved down the ladder with the grace of a cat. He then went back into the stables until she could only see the flickering of the lantern he held. Then he returned with a length of rope. "Is this enough?"

"I hope so. Can you get Mister Allendale and send him up to the house?" she asked. She realized that she had no idea where he might be, especially not at so late an hour.

"Guess so," said the man again. In spite of his slow moving arrogance, Anya could see that he was not very old, likely not even yet twenty. She could not help but feel a bit annoyed at him, but it hardly mattered.

"Thanks," she said, and she dashed off. Her candle had gone out in the wind but the moon was sufficient light. Once she re-entered the castle, she relit her candle and ran again.

She spun around the corner. "I have rope," she said loudly.

"Good," said Jim. "Bring it here. I'm holding him magically, but he's fighting back."

Anya handed Jim the rope. Everyone's attention left Lord Wildwood for a split second, but it was long enough.

"He's broken through," Jim announced, although it was quite obvious as Lord Wildwood leapt to his feet. He grabbed a dagger from the sheath on Sir Thomas's side.

"Bloody hell! Stop this, Lord Wildwood!" Thomas shouted as Wildwood made to turn the dagger in on himself.

"It's the only way," Lord Wildwood gasped.

Sir Thomas was yelling, "She's pregnant, you idiot! Don't orphan your child! No one will thank you for that!"

Lord Wildwood's face registered shock and he faltered for a moment.

It was long enough. Anya was almost blasted as Jim threw up his magic around Lord Wildwood. Sir Thomas grabbed the knife from his hand, and sent it spinning across the floor.

Lord Wildwood was soon tied securely with the rope. He looked completely wretched.

Jim groaned. "He's fighting me. Tell me that there are tools to block magic here."

Sir Thomas answered weakly. "I don't know."

Hanna came running around the corner and barreled straight into Anya. Anya landed on the floor with Hanna sprawled on top of her. "I'm sorry," Hanna sobbed.

"What is happening?" demanded Missus White in a shrill voice. "Hanna, pull yourself together."

Anya gingerly got to her feet.

Jim did not answer, his eyes were shut and he was pale. Sir Thomas spoke instead. "Are there any magic muting devices here?"

Missus White nodded. "There are several in the dungeon. I'll fetch one immediately."

"Hurry," Jim said in a low voice. Hanna moved off of Anya and she pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Wildwood, stop this," Anya heard Lady Theresa beg in a barely audible voice next to her husband's ear. "I don't know what is wrong with you, but we will fix it. Please. Please don't leave me. Please."

The tears in Lord Wildwood's eyes glinted in the candlelight, but it was clear from Jim's expression that he had not given up struggling.

It seemed like an eternity before Missus White returned carrying a metal collar. Sir Thomas took it from her and locked it securely around Lord Wildwood's neck.

Lord Wildwood slumped down and Anya saw Jim's face relax minutely. The worst of the crisis had passed.

Anya felt a rush of magical energy as the spells that Wildwood was maintaining disappeared.

"It's good that he continued to use some of his magic to protect the estate or I would never have been able to hold him," Jim said in a slightly shaky voice.

Lady Theresa was crying again. "Does this hurt him?" she asked, touching the chain between loud, wrenching sobs.

"No," Sir Thomas said quietly. "It's probably not comfortable though. These things work by forcing the all the individual's magic into a single, wasted spell. He won't be able to fight for long."

Lady Theresa looked up at Jim and Sir Thomas. "What happened to him? This is not normal."

Sir Thomas' face transformed into an angry mask. "That's what we will find out," he said.

To Anya, his words echoed like a death knell, not only for her, but perhaps for her siblings.

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