Warrior Witch: Malediction Trilogy Book Three Read online

  The three of them departed.

  The tear slowly began to heal from top to bottom, edges folding in until it was gone. I glanced up at the Queen, who cocked both eyebrows. “Well?”

  “I was expecting to see the troll King.”

  Her eyes glittered. “You didn’t ask to see him.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it again. I’d asked to see my enemy, and she’d shown me Angoulême, which meant that was who she believed it to be. Given she saw all, that was no small thing. Now we knew the Duke was leaving Trollus, that he intended to recruit humans – unwillingly – to his cause, and that Roland was giving them some trouble. Best of all, Lessa had given away where we were to find him. I would’ve liked to see the faces of my ancestors…

  “Of course, if you’d like to see your… father-in-law, it is easily done.” The Queen’s smile revealed a maw full of razor sharp teeth. I blinked, and they were gone. “For a small price.”

  My stomach clenched at the memory of the pain that had come from her taking my song, but it hadn’t lasted long and it had been worth it to see what the Duke was planning. I could go through it again if it meant learning as much about Thibault. “What sort of small price? Another song?”

  The Queen stared into the depths of the mirror on the wall. “No,” she said. “Something else. A meeting, I think.”

  “With Tristan.” It wasn’t a question. “Why?”

  “I desire to renew our acquaintance.”

  A sour taste filled my mouth, and I turned away from her so she couldn’t see my face while I thought. She had something to gain from meeting with Tristan, that much was certain. But was her gain our sacrifice? “I’d have to go back to the castle to ask if he’d be willing,” I said. “I don’t speak for him.”

  “Of course not.” Her tongue ran over her lips. “But why make the trek back through the cold when you can ask him from here? It is within your power.”

  She meant that I should use his name. It was a simple enough thing to do, and although I knew he wouldn’t appreciate me using it, he might deem it worth it in the end.

  “Cécile.” Sabine’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Sing that song again.”

  “Why?” I asked at the same time the Queen said, “You are not part of this negotiation, girl.”

  It was the first time she’d so much as acknowledged Sabine’s presence, and that, more than the dismissiveness of her tone, made me wary.

  “Please.”

  As strange as the request was, she wouldn’t ask without reason. So I drew in a deep breath and… nothing came out. I couldn’t remember the words. I couldn’t remember ever even knowing them. It was as though the song had been… taken from me. Stripped from my thoughts. And if she could take a song, how hard would it be to take something like a name.

  Silently thanking Sabine, I turned back to the Queen. “He made me promise never to use it,” I lied. “He may well agree to a meeting, but I’ll have to ask him in person.”

  The Queen went very still. Could she tell I was lying? “We’ll go straight away,” I said, bobbing a quick curtsey and then inching toward the door after Sabine. “It was a pleasure meeting you, and you really were most helpful.” I was babbling. “He’ll be wondering where I am. We really should get back.”

  “I think not,” the Queen said, and wind whipped through the room, little bits of ice flying through the air and biting at my skin. Walls of packed snow formed, blocking our exit. The lupine creatures watching from her winter palace crept closer to the tear, snarls filling the air.

  “Call him here,” she ordered, the mist forming her ebony hair rising and falling on the blizzard of her own making.

  If she wanted Tristan here so badly, it could only be to our detriment. “No.”

  The pupils of her eyes elongated like a cat’s, then snapped back into a round, human shape. And before I could think to move, her misty outline solidified and she snatched hold of my arm. Cold unlike anything I’d felt before burned through my skin, my muscle, and into my bone. I screamed, the sound like a rabbit caught in a trap.

  Then my ears rang with a loud report, and it was the Queen screaming. She let go of my arm and I scrambled back, my eyes going to Sabine, who had a firm grip on Anushka’s still smoking pistol. The ice coating everything in the room exploded, and the ground shook as the icy palace collapsed around us. The world shuddered. Everywhere I looked I saw layers of the same. A dozen sofas. A hundred Sabines. I lost my balance and fell, my empty stomach heaving.

  The fairy hissed at us once, then staggered through the opening between worlds, the tear gone as quickly as it had appeared.

  We were outside in the snow, not a hundred yards from the bridge over the river to the castle, which was obscured by the raging blizzard. I pulled up my sleeve to see what sort of injury she’d dealt me, but my skin was unmarked, only a memory of pain remaining. The fairy had caught us in an illusion or a dream, but not for a second did I doubt what had happened. Or the danger to Tristan if he stepped outside those walls. And he was coming this way.

  Closing my eyes, I focused. Tristanthysium, do not leave the castle walls until we have the chance to talk. His outrage was immediate and fierce, but it was worth it to keep him safe.

  “How did you know to do that?” I asked, letting Sabine help me to my feet.

  “Tristan told Chris and me all sorts of things about them,” she replied. “That they could be harmed by iron or steel, but only if they were corpor… solid.” She made a face. “And that if we stood inside a steel circle or kept the metal against our skin, that we’d be able to see through their glamour, because their magic couldn’t affect us. When she started getting angry, I took hold of my gun, and the illusion fell away, and I saw you standing in the snow talking not to a woman, but a monster.”

  Sabine scrubbed a hand across her eyes as though to wipe away the memory, and I could understand why. If those glimpses I’d had of fangs and claws were real, I could only imagine what she’d looked like in her entirety.

  As if on cue, a chilling howl filled the air. Then another. And another. Those lupine creatures that had flanked her throne, with fangs as long as my hand. I’d only seen the pair of them, but judging from the howls, there were more. We needed to get behind the castle walls.

  I met Sabine’s terrified gaze. “Run.”

  Chapter Eight

  Cécile

  Before we could take a step, three pony-sized wolves stepped out of the blizzard, blocking our path. Their white fur was misty and insubstantial, but their snarls were real enough.

  “Back, back,” I hissed, dragging Sabine with me until we were up against an ironwork fence, her hands fumbling with the gun as she reloaded. Leveling the weapon, she fired at one of the creatures, but it passed through with no effect.

  “What do we do?” she hissed.

  I clenched my teeth, wishing I had an answer. The Queen knew Tristan and I were bonded and what that meant. If she’d wanted to kill him, I wouldn’t still be standing. She wanted to lure him out, which meant her monsters wouldn’t kill me. But there was nothing to stop them from slaughtering Sabine.

  “They have to be solid,” Sabine whispered. “I can’t shoot them if they’re not solid.”

  “If they aren’t solid, they can’t bite.” Spotting a coal shovel leaning against a wall, I snatched it up and took a step forward.

  One of the creatures sprung, solidifying mid-air, but my shovel caught it in the shoulder. It yelped and staggered, but was back at me in an instant, teeth snapping just out of reach of my weapon. I attacked again, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the others creeping around me. Trying to get at Sabine.

  I stumbled back, pressing her against the protection of the fence, brandishing my shovel. “Help,” I shouted. “Someone help us.” But the streets were empty, everyone hiding from the danger in the skies.

  Sabine gasped, and I whirled around. One of the creatures had caught hold of her dress through the bars of the fence, and it
had her pinned against the metal. She fired her gun, and the wolf exploded into snow and ice, but before she could reload one of the other creatures swiped a paw at the weapon, knocking it from her hand. It hissed, paw smoking where it had impacted the steel, but now there was nothing to keep it from attacking her. I lunged toward my friend, but a massive weight hit me between the shoulders and I went face first into the snow.

  “No!” I jammed the handle of the shovel into the slavering maw behind my shoulder, and was rewarded with a sizzle and a cry of pain. Scrambling on my hands and knees, I swung at the haunches of the creatures stalking toward Sabine, but claws sank into my skirts, dragging me away. I rolled onto my back, jabbing the shovel at the paws holding me down. But I was losing the battle. I couldn’t get free and Sabine wouldn’t be able to hold them off. They were going to kill her.

  From this distance, Tristan could help Sabine. Could pluck her out of the danger I put her in. But with the snow blinding his view, he’d need my guidance. And to do that, I’d have to use his name.

  “Don’t do it, Cécile,” Sabine shouted as though sensing my thoughts. “She’s watching!”

  I shrieked every expletive I knew at the opening between worlds and the queen standing just beyond, her face twisted with pain and expectation. Teeth closed on the heel of my boot, dragging me her direction. I swiped at the tear, but the shovel passed through as though it were empty air. Letting Sabine die wasn’t an option – I wouldn’t let it happen. I started to pull Tristan’s name from the depths of my mind, when the sharp squeal and the stench of burning fur and flesh pulled me back into the moment.

  One of the fairy wolves was pressed against the iron fence by some invisible force, while another two were dashed against the wall of a building. There was a flurry of motion, and three shapes descended on the scene, two tall and one cloaked in shadow. Steel blades sliced through the air, the wolves exploding into sprays of snow and ice. The shadowed figure strode toward me, and the pressure on my heel released. When I looked back over my shoulder, the creatures that had been restraining me were gone.

  Warm tendrils of magic lifted me to my feet, but I brushed them away and flung myself at my friend. “Marc!” The fine wool of his cloak was blissfully warm against my frozen cheek, and I let the shovel fall from my numb fingers with a clatter. “What are you doing here?”

  “Saving your scrawny behind,” Vincent answered for him, picking up my shovel and examining it. “Your choice of weapon is somewhat suspect, Cécile. It’s a good thing Marc has heard your shrieks for help before and recognized them.”

  “Don’t I know it.” I squeezed Marc tighter. “Stones and sky, am I glad to see you three.”

  “Perhaps we might delay this little reunion until we’re behind the castle walls.” We all turned to Sabine, who had retrieved her gun, the skirts of her gown shredded. Not waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started walking.

  The twins both cocked amused eyebrows, but Marc gave me a gentle push between the shoulders to set me walking. “She’s right.” Then, falling into stride next to me, he murmured, “Thibault sent us.”

  “Why?”

  “To deliver a message.”

  “But…” I frowned, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why send you when he could send someone whose allegiance he is sure of?”

  “That is a very good question.”

  Show me our enemy. Our enemy. Enemy.

  I gave my weary head a little shake. No, that the Queen had shown me Angoulême did not mean the King was on our side – it only meant that our enemies were many. She’d known Thibault was the troll I’d wanted to see – it was all just a trick for her to gain control over Tristan.

  But…

  We were in no position to fight a war on two fronts – three, if I counted the Winter Queen, which I did. And if we had to ally with someone… Thibault hated Angoulême as much as we did, and maybe there was something to be said for putting aside our animosities for a time for the sake of destroying the greater evil.

  The problem was, even if that was the correct strategy, I wasn’t sure Tristan would be able to put aside his hatred of his father long enough to see it.

  Chapter Nine

  Tristan

  I paced back and forth across the council room chambers, barely hearing the reports being given to me by the city’s administrators.

  “You’re making people nervous,” Fred said, after the last messenger exited the room, leaving us alone.

  “Blame your sister,” I muttered, throwing myself into the chair across from him with enough force that the wood creaked. I’d been almost to the gates when she’d stopped me in my tracks, leaving me to stare helplessly at the blizzard while she negotiated whatever disaster she’d stumbled upon. Or instigated.

  It smacked of fey magic – powerful fey magic – and their involvement couldn’t be good. My uncle hadn’t provided the foretelling that had ultimately freed us out of the goodness of his heart – there was something in it for him. And if there were something in it for him, the Winter Queen would be doing her damnedest to counter him. The question was, and had always been, what did Summer have to gain from the curse being broken? And, conversely, what did Winter stand to lose?

  “Cécile will have reasons for what she did,” Fred replied, interrupting my speculation before walking over to the illusion boxing Aiden away from the world. The man had been scratching and picking at my magic, and I wished Marie would hurry up with finding a place to lock him away. “She’ll probably even think they are good ones,” he added.

  “I would have thought Sabine would temper her recklessness.”

  Fred laughed as though my comment were ludicrous, then knocked a fist against the illusion. “What’s he doing in there?”

  “A good question.” Marie stalked into the room. “And you might have more care, gentlemen. I should not like for our plan to fall apart because you were not mindful of who is listening.”

  I’d spent the better part of my life being mindful about who was listening, but I let the comment slide. Blocking the doorway, I let the barrier holding Aiden turn transparent. And swore at what I saw.

  My magic was streaked with blood and bits of fingernail; and though the tips of his fingers looked worn down to the bone, the wild-eyed Aiden continued to claw away, mouth open in muted screams.

  “God in heaven, let him out,” Marie shrieked.

  The second the barrier dropped, Marie flung herself at her son, but instead of welcoming her comfort, he snapped at her like some wild animal, a string of violent expletives streaming from his lips.

  She recoiled, then rounded on me. “You said he’d be fine.”

  “I said no such thing.” Pinning Aiden to the floor, I kneeled next to him, searching for any sign of sanity in his mad gaze. “He’s desperate to fulfill his word and we’re preventing him. He’s losing his mind.” And I’d never seen anything like this before. At least, not in a human. Did my father know his peon had been rendered useless and this was his way of disposing of him? Or…

  “Help him.” Marie’s fingernails dug into my arm.

  “I can’t. The only way to end this is to kill my father.” Or to let my father win.

  “If he dies, I’ll make you pay.” Her voice was a whisper, but the threat was clear. And I didn’t think it mattered to her that the world might pay along with me. I needed to think of a solution, and quickly.

  “We could drug him.” Fred was leaning over my shoulder, his breath coming in short little whistles past my ear. “Can’t harm himself or anyone else if he’s out cold.”

  “Do you have something?”

  “I’ve a sleeping draught in my chambers,” Marie answered, but she didn’t move.

  “Go get it,” I snapped. “And Fred, linger in the corridor and keep everyone out. The last thing we need is an interruption.”

  Both leapt into action, leaving me alone with the ailing lord. I watched his labored breathing for a long moment before asking, “Is
there anything of you left in there, Aiden du Chastelier?”

  There was power in a name – even in a human one, and he slowly turned his head, some level of sanity returning to his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Good.” I sat back on my heels. “If you endeavor to hold on to that, I’ll endeavor to see you freed of this foolish promise you made.”

  “Do I have your word on that, Your Highness?” He cackled softly, throat convulsing.

  “No.” I tilted my head, listening to the frantic beat of his heart. “I’ve made a few foolish promises of my own of late, and I’m finding them quite taxing.”

  “Wise.” He rested his forehead against the stone. “I was young. I didn’t know what I was doing when I made those promises to your father.”

  “I’m not interested in your excuses,” I said, wishing Marie would hurry up. “And blaming one’s poor choices on youth is a derivative excuse most often employed by the old.”

  “Not excuses,” he said. “Just an explanation. And I might never have another chance to voice it.”

  Talking seemed to have improved his lucidity, if nothing else, so I shrugged. “Confess away.”

  “I promised to cede the Isle to him peaceably should the trolls ever be freed of the curse.”

  “I’d gathered that much,” I said, then bit my tongue to keep any further sarcasm from passing my lips. “Why?”

  “I was young. Foolish. Desperate. And the curse had held for centuries, so what were the chances of my debt being called?” He twitched against the magic binding his wrists. “And I didn’t realize what giving my word to him really meant.”

  “You mean you didn’t think you’d have to keep it,” I said, not bothering to keep the sourness from my tone. “What did he give you in return?”

  “Gold.” His color was high, but no longer from madness, I thought. It was shame. “I’d been running wild. Gambling, drinking, women – and my father did not approve. He cut me off completely. I was angry, and I knew… I knew bargains could be made under the mountain. Your father met with me personally. Feasted me and plied me with wine and listened to me complain about my father. Then he offered to pay my debts, and all he asked was for my word to come back and visit him again.”