Warrior Witch: Malediction Trilogy Book Three (32 page)

I
t came on slowly
, and then very quickly.

A chill caught on a ship coming back from the continent. Then a cough that took hold of her during auditions, causing her to excuse herself lest she disturb the young performers. “Just a tickle in the throat. Nothing that a cup of tea won’t cure,” she assured her assistants.

But it hadn’t. Not a cup, nor a pot, nor all the potions and tonics on the Isle had any affect, and before I knew it, the cough had moved into her chest. A deep rasping thing that drained her, leaving her weak and frail. Blackness began to creep up the bonding marks on my hands, and I knew.

“Let a witch see to you,” Sabine had said, but Cécile only shook her head. “You can’t heal age,” and then, “I want to go home.”

The farmhouse in Goshawk’s Hollow was the domain of her sister, now, their father long since passed, and Fred a senior officer in Aiden’s army. Joss and her husband had a legion of children, and even a few grandchildren, and the home had been expanded to accommodate. They kept a room there for Cécile, and it was in that bed they lay her, almost too weak to speak.

“Someone needs to send for Alex,” Sabine said to Chris, who had come as soon as he’d heard. “She isn’t going to last much longer.”

Though I’d known it was coming, the words were a blow.

For many years, I’d been wondering how this moment would go. Whether, now that I was immortal, her death still had the power to kill me. Whether I wanted it to. Or not. And in the wondering, an idea had come to me, little pieces of a lifelong puzzle falling into place. That idea had blossomed and grown, and turned into the wickedest of all things: hope.

Closing the tear, I made my way to the hedge maze that stretched higher than I could see, meandering through the paths that changed depending on his mood, allowing only those whom he cared to see through to the center. The maze opened up into a clearing, at the middle of which lay a lake of molten fire, its surface heaving and shifting, the air above it shimmering with heat. The sun.

“She’s dying,” I said, and the lake settled, my reflection appearing on the smooth surface. “Will you let me see her through?”

An enormous tear opened in front of me, and with a bittersweet ache in my heart, I stepped back into the world of my birth.

T
he opening was
in a field on the de Troyes farm, and I stood motionless for a moment, savoring the crisp scent of pine on the spring breeze that still had the bite of winter. Icicles dangled from under the eaves of the barn, drip-dripping into the barrels beneath them with a sound like music. The sun overhead was warm on my back, and I stopped to pat the head of the dog sitting on the front porch before adjusting my cuffs and knocking at the door.

It swung open to reveal Chris standing in the front entry. He’d grown sturdier with age, crow’s feet marking the corners of his blue eyes, but his blonde hair was untouched by grey. He stared at me for a long moment, then said, “You pretty-faced troll bastard. How dare you show up looking like you haven’t aged a day when the rest of us had to go and get old.”

A grin – the first in longer than I cared to admit – pulled up the corners of my mouth. “I’ve missed your compliments. No one else phrases them quite like you do.”

“Did I hear you say…” Sabine pushed past Chris, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Stones and sky,” she whispered. “Is it really you?”

Not waiting for an answer, she flung her arms around my neck. “Oh, Tristan. Cécile, she’s…”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m here.” Her eyes met mine, and she gave a slow nod of understanding.

They led me inside, where Joss stood next to the same scarred wooden table she’d once sat me at. Without saying a word, she lifted my hand, tears flooding down her cheeks at the sight of my blackened bonding marks. “I’d thought maybe…” She scrubbed a hand across her face, wiping away the damp. “It’s good that you’re here – it will mean everything to her.”

Sabine took my arm at the elbow. “She hid it well, but we all knew she never recovered from losing you,” she said. “And of a surety, she never stopped loving you. Not for a moment.”

My chest tightened, and for a second, it hurt to breathe. “She never lost me.”

Boots clattered down the stairs, and my son stepped into the kitchen. “Aunt Joss–” he started to say, then froze, his inability to use his own magic doing nothing to dampen the sense of mine.

“Alex, this is–”

“I know who he is,” Alex said. “I’ve seen his portraits, and even if I hadn’t… Well, I do own a mirror.”

“The ego does not fall far from the tree,” Chris said, but I ignored him, knowing well what my son’s wit was hiding.

“If you’re here, then…” Alex looked away, jaw tightening as he struggled to contain his emotions, wiping a hand across eyes that were more blue than grey.
So like his mother.

I nodded, confirming his fears. But what was there for me to say in this short moment when I was allowed in this world? I’d watched him born, watched him grow from a boy into a man under his mother’s guiding eye. I
knew
him, but to Alexandre, I was a stranger. Little more to him than the sum of the stories told about me. He was older than I’d been when I left – than how I appeared to him now – somewhat shorter, but filled out by his adult years and hours spent training with his uncle. Though he was everything I could have wanted in a child, sentiment between us would be awkward and strange.

But neither could I leave having said nothing. I was not my father.

“When you are playing cards,” I said, “you might consider losing from time to time. Especially when you’re playing against your Uncle Fred. He takes great offense to cheating, and he’s starting to become suspicious.”

His eyes widened, then he crossed his arms. “I don’t cheat.”

I laughed. “All trolls cheat at cards – it’s in your blood. The lying on the other hand, that came from your mother.” Clapping him once on the shoulder, I started up the stairs, goodbyes seeming unwarranted now that they knew I could see them when I wanted.

Her labored breathing filled my ears before I even entered the room, and for a long time, I stood with my hand on the handle, searching for the courage I needed.

“I know you’re there.” Her voice was weak, but familiar. “So quit skulking, and come in.”

Smiling, I opened the door.

Thirty years had come and gone, but even though illness had rendered her frail, she was as beautiful as she’d been at seventeen. Her crimson hair had grown long again, and it hung in a thick braid over one shoulder. The scar on her cheek had faded into a thin white line that was fiercely lovely, and the faint creases near her eyes spoke more to character than age. But none of that mattered, because her blue gaze was filled with pain, fluid rattling in her lungs, and her heartbeat weak. It would not be long now.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered as I sat next to her on the bed, taking her hand. “But I was starting to think you wouldn’t come. That you didn’t…”

Twin tears rolled down her cheeks, and mindful of her fragile state, I pulled her close. “I told you once that I’d love you until the day I took my last breath, and that is true now as it was then. But how did you know…”

“He told me,” she said, her breath ragged against my throat. “When Alex was born, he told me that I’d see you in the end.”

And how many times had I accused my uncle of being heartless and cruel?

A rash of coughing took her, and I held her slender form through it, fear building in my chest as her heart stuttered. She was dying. Cécile was dying.

“It hurts.”

My eyes burned. “It will be over soon.”

Cécile took one last breath, and then her heart stilled.

The pain was incredible, like I was being gutted, my chest ripped in two. The silken thread of our bond stretched and frayed, but I clung to it, held on. Refused to let go.

Please
, was the only thought in my mind as I tore open a path to Arcadia and stepped through.

T
he air was
warm and humid with the taste of a lurking summer storm. The sweet scent of some unknown flowers filled my nose, and against my cheek, I felt the press of a linen shirt, the skin beneath burning with unnatural heat. And a heartbeat in my ear that was as steady and familiar as my own.

“A dream,” I whispered, because I’d lost track over the years of how often I’d lost myself in his arms, only to be torn awake and find myself in an empty bed.

“Not a dream,” Tristan said, and I lifted my face to gaze into silver eyes, his face exquisite and unchanged.

“Then I’m…?”

He nodded, the hand pressing against the small of my back warm through the silk of my sapphire dress. My body, I noticed, had reverted to a state it had not seen in decades.
You are as you imagine yourself to be.

“How?” I asked, casting my gaze around at the lush green of Arcadia, the landscape shifting and changing and full of strange life. “I’m human.” And I knew better than most how much iron ran through my veins.

“A human body cannot pass between worlds,” he said, “but a human soul, it turns out, suffers no such impediments. That’s how my uncle was able to bring you here before, however temporarily.”

“Much can happen in the time between two heartbeats,” I said, repeating what the King of Summer had told me while we stood in the heart of Winter.

“Or when a heart beats no more,” Tristan said. “Our bond was what kept your soul from going… elsewhere, but–” He cleared his throat, looking over my head. “It could be broken, if that’s what you want.”

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, drinking in the taste of him even as I banished that foolish thought from his mind. I could’ve kissed him for another lifetime and still not had my fill, but I lowered down onto the soles of my feet. “Is Marc…”

He shook his head, and even though the wound was old, the pain seemed fresh again. “But the twins, Martin, Roland – they’re here and well. I’ll take you to see them.”

I bit the insides of my cheeks, afraid to ask my next question, but knowing that I had to. “How long can I stay?”

A smile curved his cheeks. “Forever.”

My eyes burned and I shook my head slowly, letting the sweetness of that singular word sink into my heart. “Why didn’t you bring me sooner?”

He tucked a curl of hair behind my ear, then cupped my cheek with his palm. “Would you have wanted to miss it?”

Instinctively, I knew what he meant: my life. All the places I’d gone, things I’d seen, people I’d known and loved. A thousand accomplishments, mine and those of my family and friends. My son, growing from a tiny baby into a man of whom I was immensely proud.
My
life, which should’ve been
our
life together. “No,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have wanted to miss a minute of it. And I’m so sorry you had to.”

“I didn’t.” He kissed my lips. “At least, not entirely. There are some advantages of being able to see all.”

My chest ached as I imagined him watching all those long years. The depth of his love and loyalty to me, to our son, to our friends, that he’d not turned away and forgotten. “I wish they knew. Alex… He’ll take my death hard.” And though he was a man grown, it was hard for me to accept leaving him.

“Sabine suspects,” Tristan said. “She’ll know what to say. To him, and to the rest of them.”

It was as though the last of my burdens had been lifted, and I took a deep breath and savored it, knowing that I’d done all I could for those I loved best. For those I’d left behind. Their lives were theirs to live. As was mine. “Tristan…”

“Yes?” His face betrayed none of the nervousness I knew to be roiling through him.

“You say you saw all?” I cocked one eyebrow, then smiled as I felt his nerves turn to faint embarrassment. “As I recall, some things are better…” I paused, giving him a slow smile, “face to face.”

“I could not agree more,” he replied, embarrassment turning into something far better. Then his arms were around me, his lips on mine, and the feel of them – of him – was infinitely sweeter than memory.

Pulling him down onto grass like velvet, I lost myself in him. In the love that had consumed me for so much of my life. A love that I’d feared would always be colored with the bittersweet tarnish of loss. An echo of a song. But now, against all hope, that love was polished clean and new as it had been in those first days we’d fallen.

My mortal life was over.

But our immortal life had just begun.

I
’ve faced
a unique set of challenges with the writing of each of my novels, but one constant has been carving time out of each day to put words on the page. Never, however, has that been more difficult than the six months I spent plucking
Warrior Witch
from this sleep-deprived, new mother’s mind. With great certainty, I can say that this novel would be a half-finished mess of words on the page without the support of my family. An enormous amount of thanks must go to my parents, Carol and Steve, for providing endless hours of babysitting, and to my mother-in-law, Pat, for swooping in during those moments when I was falling asleep on my feet. Most especially, I must thank my other half, Spencer, for waking up at 5am everyday so that I didn’t have to, and for ensuring that I ate more than just pizza and granola bars.

Gratitude, as always, must go to my utterly amazing agent, Tamar Rydzinski, who always goes above and beyond the call of duty. A big thanks to intern Rachael for her summarization skills, and to Laura Dail, for always being an enormous support. To my publishing team at Angry Robot: Phil, Marc, Mike, Penny, and Caroline, thank you so much for all the hard work you’ve done to ensure the success of my novels.

Thanks goes to Donna, for getting me out of my pyjamas and out of the house, and to Carleen and Gena for texting me things that had nothing to do with novels so that I remembered there was a world outside my writing cave. Lots of love to my brother, Nick – you are the consummate salesman and I owe you one.

Last, but not least, I must express a huge amount of gratitude to the book-bloggers and reviewers who have been such an enormous support to me and my novels, but most particularly to Melissa (@StolenSongbird) who picked up my social media slack while I was struggling to finish this novel. And the biggest thanks of all goes to the readers who have stuck with me through to the end – I hope you loved every minute of it.