Warrior Witch: Malediction Trilogy Book Three (16 page)

But nothing could’ve prepared me for the impact of us hitting the rock that split the river in two. My teeth rattled together, and I cried out in pain as my head slammed against our magical container. We rolled, caught up against the rock, and I heard Martin curse, his body quivering with effort, and then we were moving again. I waited for us to smash up against the bars and begin the endless tumble that would be our doom, but it never came.

The worst of the bouncing ceased. Then the magic disappeared and icy cold water closed over my head. My heels jarred against the riverbed, and I kicked up, spluttering and gasping as I broke the surface.

The darkness was absolute, the current tugging me through the winding tunnel, but I knew it eventually spilled down what had once been the steps of the stadium, and I needed to get out before then.

“Martin?” I hissed, turning in the water so my feet would take the brunt of anything I ran up against. “Where are you?”

The only response was my wildly chattering teeth. “Martin?” What if he’d hit his head? What if he couldn’t swim? What if yet another friend had died trying to help me?

Ahead, I heard the rush of the water pouring down into the lake. I had to get free of the current. Kicking my feet, I swam toward the bank. My fingers brushed against the rock, and I reached up, trying to catch hold of the lip. But all I found was rock worn smooth by centuries of flowing water.

I was so cold. Already, my limbs felt sluggish and heavy, and I kicked futilely, no longer certain where the edge was.
Get out! You have to get out!
Stretching my arm, I found the bank again, and drawing on what little reserves of energy were left in my body, I lunged up.

And magic closed around my wrist.

My body flew out of the river and was dropped like a sack of potatoes on the bank. Curling up into a ball, I blinked at the light in front of my face, ready to castigate Martin the moment I’d recovered my breath.

But I never got a chance, because the troll kneeing in front of me wasn’t the librarian.

“
I
’m not
sure how your half-blood friends managed to sneak their way out of the city,” the guard said, nudging me with the butt of her spear, “but I can assure you that none of them swam out.”

I curled in on myself, trying to hide my face. Not that it would do me much good in the long run.

She dropped to one knee. “There’s not a one of us who doesn’t want to see the outside, girl, but it isn’t safe. Especially not for those like you. Prince Roland is roaming the Isle with none but the Duke to keep him in check, and he holds no love for half-bloods. Do you want to run afoul of him?”

I shook my head.

“Trollus is safe,” the guard said, patting me on the shoulder. “Here, you are under the King’s protection. Be grateful for that. Now get up.”

Even if I’d wanted to, I wasn’t sure if I could. My body felt numb, and though I could move my arms and legs, they didn’t feel like my own.

“Stones and sky,” the troll grumbled. “You’re not going to make me drag you back, are you?”

Thud.

I opened my eyes just in time to see the guard drop to the ground next to me, eyes blank and unseeing. Martin stood behind her, robes dripping with river water. “She won’t be unconscious for long,” he said. “And when she comes after us, she won’t come alone.”

With Martin half carrying me, we ran to the end of the tunnel and down the endless steps to the lake. It gleamed like polished onyx, and it wasn’t until I tried to push the boat into it that I realized the water was frozen.

“Will it hold our weight?” I asked, wrapping one of the blankets from the boat around my shoulders as best I could. I was dizzy, adrenaline and exertion barely holding back hypothermia.

“I don’t feel in a position to…”

Not waiting for him to finish, I stomped past him, then eased onto the lake, sliding my boots across the slick surface. “Keep your distance,” I muttered. “We don’t both want to fall through.”

The ice groaned and creaked as we made our way out over the black depths, keeping close to the walls of the stadium. But we hadn’t gone more than fifty yards before the tunnel filled with the sound of running feet. Martin extinguished his already faint light, and we plunged into darkness.

“She’s not alone.” The female guard’s voice drifted across the void, all traces of kindness gone. She was plainly visible where she stood on the bank with three others, and the moment they moved their lights out over the lake, we’d be just as exposed.

“You’re sure they came this way?” one of the others asked. “It’s a dead end.”

“It was either this way, or back out underneath your noses, so you tell me.” Another light formed over her head, then began a slow progress across the lake.

Dropping to my elbows and knees, I scuttled toward the shadow of one of the ancient pillars, using its bulk to hide from view. Seconds later, Martin joined me, the ice protesting against our combined weight. Cracks spidered out from beneath us as the guard’s light passed by, searching. Hunting.

“This is a waste of time,” one of the guards muttered. “Cursed city is full of sluag and worse, and you’ve got us chasing after some half-blood who’s decided to take up skating.”

“Catching the fool who assaulted me is an excellent use of my time,” she responded. “Go back and stand in front of the gate – I’ll deal with them myself.”

The ice moaned, and I risked peeking around the corner of the pillar. The light from the three other guards was retreating into the tunnel, but the female was making her way out toward the center of the lake. Martin plucked at my sleeve. I ignored him, suspecting that his martial talents had been exhausted in the singular blow he’d dealt to the guard’s head. But he insistently tugged at my sleeve again.

“What?” I whispered.

He pointed down through the glassy surface, and seconds later, something moved.

I could not say what the creature was – only that it was a great leviathan. Its serpentine form moved lazily beneath the ice, opalescent scales gleaming as though it were lit from within. The guard hadn’t noticed it yet, and she moved with a measured stride across the lake, her eyes roving for someone that hid above, not something that hunted beneath.

“Don’t move,” Martin whispered. “Maybe it won’t notice us.”

“We can’t stay here forever.” Already, my lack of motion was allowing the cold to take over, but I dared not ask Martin to use magic to warm me lest it draw the attention of either the troll or what I strongly suspected was a Winter creature.

A voice echoed through the cavern, a song both lovely and eerily familiar. A song being sung with my voice.

My skin prickled with tension, and I realized then that it wasn’t just my own. My spell had worn off Tristan at the worst possible moment. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. This was no coincidence. Somehow, she knew my spell was wearing off, and she intended to use me to draw him out.

The guard froze, head cocking as she listened. “Princess?” she called, recognizing my voice. The creature sang again, and it passed beneath us as it circled, close enough to see the feathered tendrils floating behind its neck, the crimson eye that peered at us, but did nothing. It called out, and then the troll saw it.

Her oath filled the cavern, then she was sprinting back toward the tunnel, so fast as to be almost a blur. “Go,” I hissed at Martin and we scrambled into a run toward the end of the lake, running blind in the darkness.

But not fast enough.

A streak of white light shot beneath us then exploded out of the ice, my song drifting from its lips as it reared up high, blocking our path. Water sloshed over the ice, cracks streaking across the surface as though drawn with an enormous white pen. Then with a thunderous crash, the lake surface shattered into pieces.

I shrieked, the ground moving and shifting beneath us, the frozen slabs rising and falling on waves of the fey creature’s making. I slid into Martin and we both dropped to our knees to keep from sliding off into the water. The leviathan leaned forward, its great head descending on us, maw open wide.

Then it jerked sideways, song turning into a shriek. I found myself sliding the other way, the momentum of Martin’s blow shooting us in the opposite direction. I scrabbled at the surface, but I could find no purchase.

Something silver whistled over my head, and the creature screamed in pain, diving back beneath the surface, a sword embedded in its flesh.

The slab tilted, then righted itself with a jerk as the guard landed on the far side, another blade in her hand.

“This way, this way,” Martin panted, hauling me across the magic bridging the heaving slabs.

“Where is it?” I could barely get the words out, I was so cold. “Where’s the hole?”

A dozen balls of light illuminated the paintings covering the wall, but there was no opening. Behind us, the ice exploded as the leviathan launched out of the water again. I turned in time to see the guard toppling down a massive slab, sliding toward the blackness below. But she propelled herself outwards, summersaulted in the air and landed in a crouch. She lifted her arms, and the air hummed with magic, but the creature was back beneath the surface.

“I don’t see it.” Martin said something else, but his words were drowned out as my song once again filled the cavern. Mocking. Taunting.

And thick in my head, was Tristan’s panic.
Stay behind the walls,
I silently pleaded, clinging to Martin’s sleeve.
It’s a trick. She’s trying to lure you out.
But I’d given up my only way to ensure he stayed safe.

Martin’s mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the battle going on behind us. “He said it was here!” I screamed.

Our slab of ice slammed into the rock walls, water flooded over the edges, soaking into my clothes. “It was a trick,” I sobbed. “Nothing but a trick.”

But Martin’s face was intent, eyes examining the faces of the trolls on the wall. “The Duke,” he shouted, then, “It has to be there. Hold on.” He backed up, sprinted across the slab, and dived straight at the wall.

And disappeared.

“Martin,” I screamed, and a second later, his head appeared through the illusion blocking the entrance.

Then the ice collapsed beneath me, water closing over my head.

I
stared
off into space while Josette sat quietly in the chair opposite, her face pale, one foot bouncing up and down at a frenetic pace. I would’ve liked to do the same, but I was playing a part, and had been doing so for hours. Tiny little signs of irritation and anger, and a distinct loss of focus. Enough for Josette to clue-in that her sister’s spell was wearing off and to set Winter’s plan in motion.

Little did she know that the spell had faded at dawn this morning.

Which was a problem in and of itself. Cécile was in the thick of it, and as much as I knew this was only Winter toying with her fear in order to lure me out, my nerves were stretched tight. Every instinct told me to go to her, but that would have me falling for Winter’s ploy, whereas I had every intention of her falling for mine.

“Why do you insist on sitting here?” I finally snapped. “Isn’t there something else you should be doing?”

“I’m keeping you company,” she said, rising to her feet and throwing another few pieces of wood on the already blazing fire.

“What you’re doing is cooking me alive,” I muttered, pulling off my coat and throwing it carelessly over the back of the chair. “It’s aggravating.”

“Oh?” Her voice brightened. “I mean… I thought it rather cool in here.”

I shook my head. “Come, Souris. Let’s get some fresh air.” I led him up into the tower, leaning over the parapet and then drumming my fingers against the edge. Taking a deep breath, I paced swiftly back and forth across the tower, stopping from time to time to look in the direction of Trollus. And my father.

Because if my plan for Winter succeeded, he’d be my next target.

I’d always known that ridding the world of King Thibault would be a complicated task, and it was no less so with the curse broken. I might be slightly more powerful than him, but he was more experienced, and he knew most of my tricks. Remaining in Trollus was a clever tactic, because I couldn’t attack him from a distance without putting the entire city in jeopardy, which he knew I’d never do. If I managed to get close to him, he’d be ready and wary, and beating him would be no sure thing. What I needed was a way to lower his guard, to make him think I wasn’t a threat.

Which, if everything went according to plan, would happen soon enough.

Suitably cooled and certain that Joss had accomplished her task, I trotted back down the stairs to find her standing in front of the fire, expression intent.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped. “Nothing. Just warming my hands.” A bead of sweat formed on her forehead, and she brushed it away as the black marble decoys she’d dumped in the fire exploded with twin cracks. “Sap in the wood,” she explained, and I gave her a dour glare.

“It’s too hot,” I said, then added, “Pour me some wine, would you.” I was being rude, but she only nodded. And when she turned her back, I glanced at the clock, watching it strike the hour. Everyone and everything should be in place.

She filled both wine glasses to the brim, walking carefully back to the table and depositing one next to the plate containing the remains of my meal. I ignored it in favor of picking at a loose thread on my shirt, and as predicted, Souris leapt onto the table, knocking the wine glass as he went for the scraps of food. The red liquid sloshed over my trousers, and I swore.

“Damn it, Souris!” I shouted at him, then picked up the empty glass and hurled it across the room where it smashed against a particularly ugly tapestry. He barked once, then scuttled under the table where he eyed me with a toothy grin.

“Tristan,” Joss said, her face pale. “I think Cécile’s spell is wearing off.”

I stood staring at her for a long moment, then I dived toward my discarded coat, ripping the pocket as I extracted the handkerchief the seeds – and, more recently, the marbles – had been wrapped in.

“They’re gone,” I hissed, the scrap of fabric disappearing in a burst of flame.

The room trembled, magic compounding the heat of the fire.

“Are you sure?” Josette was shaking, her wine a pool of red on the tabletop.

I turned and gave her black glare.

“Maybe they’re in your other coat,” she whispered.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I need them.”

And it was the truth. It was taking every ounce of willpower I had not to react to Cécile’s terror.
It’s not real,
I told myself.
It’s all part of Winter’s plan.

But what if it was real? What if Cécile needed me and this plan was a mistake? The back of the chair cracked and splintered beneath my grip, and I shoved it aside.

Moving with speed no human possessed, I was around the table, catching hold of Joss’s sleeve and dragging her close. “Your sister is in danger, but if I leave…” I stared intently at her, as though she possessed the solution to my dilemma.

She cracked. “Please help my sister, Tristan. Please don’t let anything happen to her.”

It was either the finest bit of acting she’d managed, or she was genuinely afraid for Cécile’s wellbeing. Suspecting the latter, I bit the inside of my cheeks. Something wasn’t right, but I didn’t dare stop now.

“I need those seeds,” I said. “Who took them?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, and I knew this wasn’t going as she had planned. She’d expected me to go running straight out the castle gates and into Winter’s clutches, and now she didn’t know what to do.

“Sabine,” I hissed. “She was against me using the magic, and she’s had the opportunity. She took them from me.”

Josette blanched. “Surely not. She wouldn’t steal from you. Sabine is loyal.”

“Don’t protect her.” I shoved past, moving out into the corridor, doors exploding open as I passed. “Do you know what I do to thieves?”

Her eyes were bright with panic as she clutched at my arm, her fear for the innocent Sabine warring with her desire to trick me, and with her terror of just what I’d do if she admitted to having thrown them in the flames. “You need to help Cécile,” she pleaded, but I shrugged her off.

Catching hold of one of the half-bloods hurrying down the hall, I jerked him close. “Where is Sabine?”

“The gatehouse, Your Highness,” he replied. “With Lord Marc.”

Joss took off running, and I strode after her, winding my way through the corridors and out into the open air.

“Sabine,” Josette screamed. “Run. You need to run.”

Cécile’s blonde friend twisted around, her eyes widening at the sight of us. Then Marc stepped in the line of fire. “Stones and sky, Tristan, what’s going on?”

“My seeds,” I shouted, and then I leveled a finger at her. “Where. Are. They?”

Sabine took a step back. Then another.

“Tristan, she hasn’t done anything wrong,” Marc said, throwing up a shield to block my path. I shattered it with a single blow and demanded, “Where are they?”

“They were a mistake, Tristan,” Sabine shouted, her voice echoing through the air. “Even if I had them, you don’t need them.”

“Give them back!”

Marc raised another shield and stepped between us. “Sabine, run!”

She didn’t hesitate, swinging up onto the back of Cécile’s horse and laying the ends of her reins to the mare’s haunches. In a matter of seconds, she was across the bridge and into the city.

Marc backed up until he stood just outside the iron barrier. “Tristan, you can’t step outside the walls.”

“Then bring her back! The seeds are mine.”

Marc took a deep breath. “You don’t need them.”

But I did need them.
Cécile
…
“You know what the punishment is for a human who steals from a troll,” I snarled. “Death.”

I smashed through his shield and knocked him out of the way. I hesitated only for a second before stepping across the circle protecting me, and then I broke into a run.

With every stride, I was sure the world would tear open and Winter would step out, stopping me in my tracks. That this plan was folly and would never work, but I saw no sign of her or any of her minions.

But of a surety, they were watching.

I chased the sound of the hooves through Trianon, gaining ground by cutting across yards and going over walls. But Sabine was riding at reckless speed, and I didn’t catch sight of her until she was galloping up the street toward Bouchard’s residence, bent low over the horse’s back, hair whipping out behind her. “Give them back, Sabine!” I howled, and tore her off the back of the horse.

I let her dangle in the air for an instant, then dropped her in a pile of snow next to the open gate to the property.

Watching her scramble back, I slowly stalked forward. “Give them to me.”

“Please, Tristan, please,” she sobbed. “I don’t have them.”

“The law is the law,” I said, then the air charged with magic and she collapsed in the snow, unmoving.

I dug into her pockets, discretely pulling out the seeds, relief filling me at the sight of them even as I pantomimed the frustration of one thwarted. But before I could do anything more the world tore, and Winter stepped out.