Warrior Witch: Malediction Trilogy Book Three

by Danielle L. Jensen

  “I didn’t say you were wrong, Cécile,” Marc said. “Only that the solution might not be as clear cut as you might wish.”

  “And both of you are forgetting one big problem,” Sabine said, bringing a tray of food to the table. “The fairy queen.”

  I took a bowl of soup from the tray and began spooning it into my mouth as I considered Sabine’s words. “She did something to our bond so that Tristan didn’t know I’d left the castle,” I said.

  Marc shook his head. “She couldn’t affect that. What she did was catch you in an illusion within your own mind – one that you and Sabine shared.”

  I blinked once and Sabine lifted her eyebrows.

  “She wanted you to believe you were across the city from Tristan,” Marc said. “But she knew he would sense the distance, so instead she used illusion to deceive you. Time flows differently in the mind, but it would have been taxing, even for her.”

  My mind couldn’t even begin to wrap itself around the concept, so I set that part of his explanation aside and focused on the last. “If it was so taxing, why did she do it?”

  “Because she wanted to talk to you without his interference.” Marc rubbed his chin. “She didn’t care to risk a direct confrontation with him. It’s well within his power to do her a great deal of harm.”

  And here I’d thought it was the other way around. I let my spoon fall against the lip of the bowl with a clatter. “Then why is he afraid of her?”

  “He should be wary, yes. Her power is immense, and she commands an enormous host of deadly creatures. But her magic isn’t a weapon in the way a troll’s is.”

  “I didn’t say wary.” My skin burned with my rising anger. “I said afraid.”

  Marc hesitated, his stillness betraying his unease. “I don’t know.”

  I desire to renew our acquaintance… The fairy queen’s words danced through my head and I swore. “They’ve met before.” Shoving a roll in my pocket, I started toward the door.

  “Cécile–”

  I stopped without turning around. “No, Marc. I know you’re trying to protect him, but if he’s keeping things from us then he doesn’t deserve it. We’re at war, and there’s no place for us keeping secrets from each other. Not for Tristan. Not for any of us.”

  I left the room and he didn’t try to stop me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cécile

  I climbed the stairs of the other tower, wrapping my cloak around me before I shoved open the heavy oak door. The chill made my arm ache in memory of Winter’s touch, but I shoved aside the pain as I scanned the darkness for Tristan.

  He stood in the shadows, elbows resting on the weatherworn parapet. Though he knew I was there, he didn’t turn and, after a moment, I went to stand next to him. Casting my eyes out over the city, I noticed the light of the dome was gone, its presence apparent only through the slight distortion in the air. The blizzard had ceased, but the cloud cover had thickened, blocking out all light from the stars and moon. The Isle should have been pitch black in the hour before dawn.

  But it wasn’t.

  In the distance rose an orange glow. Fire, fierce and bright, and not just burning in one location. It burned in many. And even as I watched, a massive gout of silvery troll fire exploded into the night sky, rising higher and higher before fading into the colors of natural flames. “Roland,” I whispered. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Tristan’s voice was barely audible over the wind.

  “Can you tell where he is?”

  “Just beyond Trollus.” His fingers dug into the stone, little bits of it crumbling to fall into the darkness below.

  “The Hollow?” I was shaking, my teeth clattering together even as my skin burned hot. “My family? Chris?”

  “I can’t tell for certain.” He shifted, snow crunching beneath his weight. “I think he’s keeping to the Ocean Road, but he isn’t the only troll out there.”

  Tears dribbled down my cheeks, the names of all the small villages and hamlets along the road rising up in my mind. All those people dead or enslaved. And if he was going that direction, Courville would be next. Turning my head, I looked out over the ocean to see if I could glimpse the glow of the city on the far side of the bay, but the mist hanging over the water blocked it from sight. Other than Trianon and Trollus, Courville was the only other city on the Isle. Thousands of people lived there. Thousands of soon to be victims.

  “And why is it,” I asked, scrubbing the tears from my face, “that you haven’t gone to stop him?”

  Tristan was silent for so long that I wondered if he’d answer me at all. Then he said, “I made a bargain with Winter to save my life. That’s how I survived the sluag sting. Its venom is a sort of magic. She controls them, and therefore she controls their magic and its effects. I owe her a life-debt. There is almost nothing she cannot ask of me.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I told Victoria, and she will explain the circumstances to your brother. They’ll come up with a reasonable excuse for why I’m hiding behind the walls while my brother destroys every town and village he comes across.”

  I said nothing while I mastered my temper, then, “It’s been months since you were stung, and you never once mentioned this little detail.”

  “Actually, I did,” he said, and my mind prickled with a half-recalled memory. The scent of frost. I focused hard, and the forgotten conversation slowly moved to the forefront of my thoughts. Someone with a great deal of power did me a favor. I owe her a very great debt.

  “She made me forget,” I said. “How is that possible?”

  “More of a strong suggestion that our conversation wasn’t worth remembering,” he said. “She couldn’t take something without giving up something in return.”

  “Why didn’t you remind me?”

  Tristan sighed. “I gave her my word not to speak of the conversation that happened between the two of us, and… And as long as the curse was in place, I didn’t have to worry about the debt.”

  And he’d believed he never would, as I’d yet to convince him that the trolls deserved to be freed.

  “Do you know what she wants?” I asked. Could he tell me if he did?

  He shook his head. “No, but it will be something I don’t want to give. She wouldn’t waste the debt on anything I’d sacrifice freely.”

  I leaned over the edge, fighting the urge to rid myself of the small amount of soup I’d eaten. “I didn’t think things could get worse.”

  “I’ve warned you about the dangers of optimism.”

  I laughed, but it had a strange, almost hysterical edge to it. “Does she need to see you face to face to call in this debt?”

  He gave a small nod. “Which is why she was using you to try to lure me out. But a debt can only be called once. A name, though… You know as well as anyone what an effective tool that is. Be thankful it’s the one thing she can’t ask me for.”

  His words sound like a barb, but they didn’t feel that way. He was past anger, slumped into the depths of indecision and regret.

  “You couldn’t have known it would come to this,” I said, resting my hand on top of his, feeling the heat of his skin through the leather of his glove.

  “Don’t try to give me absolution in this, Cécile,” he said. “I knew it would cost me, but with my life on the line – and yours – it was a risk I was willing to take. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have given her.”

  He leaned against the wall, keen eyes delving into the darkness. “I should be out there stopping him. He’s my responsibility. But what if I step outside these walls and she calls my debt? What if whatever she asks of me not only keeps me from stopping Roland, it prevents me from protecting those in Trianon? But if I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

  Another tower of silver flame lit the night sky and I squeezed Tristan’s hand. Now wasn’t the time to push an alliance with Thibault, so instead I asked, “Why hasn’t your father moved?”

  “Because he knows I won’t attack him wh
ile he’s in Trollus,” Tristan said. “There’s too much of a chance of one of us bringing the mountain down on the city. And, likely, he’s using Angoulême’s actions as a way to force me into an alliance. As a way of bringing me to heel. If only he knew that I’ve already effectively been caged.”

  I racked my brain for a solution, for a way to find out what the Queen intended. “What about your uncle?” I asked. “Could he stop her?”

  “He can’t prevent her from claiming what’s owed to her any more than she could keep him from doing the same.” He gave me a meaningful glance that I chose to ignore.

  Closing my eyes, I remembered the being I’d met in that land of endless summer. How he had seemed to glow golden like the sun. It was hard to imagine him subjugated, and it also didn’t make sense. “But he called her his wife?”

  A ghost of a smile drifted across Tristan’s face. “They would’ve framed themselves in a way you’d understand. Spoken your language. Appeared in a form they believed you’d find pleasing. The higher fey are…” He paused, seeming to flounder for an explanation, “they’re not solid, static creatures populated by a soul in the way a human is. They are sentient entities that appear as they wish, and the lesser fey are their creations. Splinters of themselves that they’ve shaped into certain forms then abandoned to their own devices. When the higher fey came to this world, they formed themselves as humans to blend in with those living on the Isle. Perfect humans. And when the iron eventually bound them here, they found themselves imprisoned in their human forms.”

  I remembered Anushka’s words: that’s what they are. Base. To the human eye, they are so very lovely, but to their ancestors, the immortal fey, they are wretched, ugly, and colorless things. Trolls.

  “The rulers of Summer and Winter are bonded,” he continued. “But they hate each other. They’re continually at odds, their warriors constantly warring against each other. And with the ebb and flow of battle, so do the seasons shift in all the many worlds they touch upon.” He opened his hand and let the snow blow off into the night. “Winter is at the height of her power.”

  I frowned, a thought occurring to me as I remembered my conversation with the fairy queen.

  “What?”

  I pursed my lips. “Is it possible she didn’t want the curse broken?” I replayed the conversation over to him as best as I could remember.

  Tristan’s brow furrowed, and he absently brushed snow off the parapet so he could rest his elbows as he thought. Reaching into my pocket, I handed him the bun I’d stuffed in there prior to abandoning Marc and Sabine.

  “My aunt has long believed her prophesies came from the Summer Court,” he took a bite, chewing slowly. “If my uncle wanted us freed, it would be because it benefited him in some way, so it would make sense that it would be to Winter’s detriment.”

  “Any guesses as to what that benefit might be?” I asked.

  “We are technically part of his court,” he replied. “All my aunt’s prophesies have been information that has helped my people, warned us about trouble.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s not done with us yet.” He turned to look at me. “We know for certain he’s not done with you. You owe him for my name.”

  My mouth went dry, less for the reminder of the debt I owed than for the reminder of the name I possessed. I’d been on the cusp of using it today to save Sabine, and as much as it made me sick, I knew that doing so would’ve been a mistake. “Is there a way to unknow it?”

  “Unknowing it wouldn’t cancel your debt.” He tilted his head. “But that isn’t your reason for asking, is it?”

  I shook my head. “It’s too great a weapon. I’m afraid of misusing it.”

  “What if you need it?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered.

  The hinges of the door creaked, and we both turned. “We’ll talk about this later,” Tristan murmured.

  Fred appeared in the entrance. “The scouts have all departed, and I’ve sent ships out to see if they can pinpoint your brother’s progress as well as to warn Courville. Lady Victoria indicated that he’d have no difficulty sinking the ships from shore, so they know to be out of sight by dawn.”

  “Good.” Tristan exhaled. “And you’ve sent riders with warnings?”

  “Already gone. Hopefully the islanders listen and take refuge in the mountains where they’ll be harder to find, although it will be difficult with the snow and the cold. We’ve begun loading what ships are in the harbor with those who can’t fight, but they’ll need to set sail soon if they are to be out of range before full light. The winds aren’t in our favor.”

  “Marc can help push them out of the harbor,” Tristan said. “I’ll send him straight away.”

  My brother’s eyes widened, and it occurred to me that he really hadn’t seen the scope of a troll’s power. “Right,” he said, then looked away and scratched his chin, giving away his discomfort. “Lady Victoria explained your predicament. I think if we tell those in Trianon that you must remain in the city to keep it protected that none of them will protest too heartily about you not venturing out. For now, anyway.”

  “It’s not far from the truth,” Tristan said, eyes going to fires in the distance. “His power has grown.”

  Doubt twisted my guts, and I knew it was doing the same to Tristan’s. Roland was testing his powers, seeing how far he could push them now that he was freed of the confines of Trollus. And for the first time ever, I wondered who the most powerful troll on the Isle really was.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tristan

  Dawn came far too soon.

  While Cécile disappeared to check on Aiden, I spent the first hours of the morning listening to the tallies of soldiers, arms, and supplies. To strategies put forth by men who had no real concept of what they were facing. Even with my little demonstration, the idea that Roland could stand in the face of an army’s worth of artillery and laugh was inconceivable to them. And though the Regent’s council remained uneasy in my and Victoria’s presence, it didn’t take long for them to start talking over us. Fred they included in the conversation – given Aiden was only a ceremony away from becoming Regent – but the volume of his voice suggested he was no less frustrated.

  “They really are quite dense,” Victoria said, sliding her chair back a couple paces and settling her booted heels on the table with a thud. Several of the men shot her appalled glances, but she ignored them. “Maybe we should have sent them down to watch Marc push boats out to sea.”

  “I believe they are called ships,” I said, the conversation around us stalling, just as she had intended.

  “Semantics,” she declared, and began pruning her fingernails with a razor sharp filament of magic. When all twelve pairs of eyes at the table were on her, she asked, “Are you lot of armchair generals ready to listen or must I sit through another hour of your abysmal strategies?”

  Eyes bulged and jaws twitched, but before anyone could speak, the door opened and Marc came in, an out-of-breath man trailing at his heels. “First ships have returned,” my cousin said. “But not all of them will make it back.” He nudged the man. “Tell them.”

  The sailor peered up at Marc, trying to get a glimpse within the depths of his hood, then seemed to think better of it. “We went up the coast, but kept lights out and silence on the deck as she directed,” he nodded at Victoria. “There’s some coastal villages that seem untouched – could see folk moving about with torches and lanterns – but others…” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’re nothing but glowing pits of char.”

  The councilmen broke out in exclamations of dismay, but I held up a hand to silence them. “How many?”

  “Four, by my count.”

  “And how far down the coast has he reached?” I gestured to the map on the table, watching as he tapped a finger against a hamlet located on the Ocean Road. “This is where we saw him.”

  “Not that far from Trollus,” I muttered to Victoria.

  She nodded, tapping her
bottom lip. “They could be much further if all they cared about is destruction.”

  The look in her eyes told me we were thinking the same thing: that just as Cécile had said, Roland was taking oaths of loyalty from those who surrendered. What he might choose to do with those oaths made my stomach clench. Then the sailor’s words finally settled. “You saw him?”

  The sailor nodded, face pale. “Was hard to make out anything in the dark, so we stayed until dawn, but retreated away from the coast so we needed a scope to see.” He blew out a long breath. “Came down onto the beach, and he was just a boy. Just a boy.”

  How many times had the same sentiment stayed my hand?

  “He waded in – didn’t seem to care a wit about the cold – and then he started splashing his hands in the water like a child. Laughing like a child. But the ocean moved.”

  “It does that, I hear,” Victoria said, but there was little levity in her voice.

  “It was like a giant was playing in the water. Or a god. All my life has been spent at sea, and I’ve never experienced waves like that.”

  There was nothing heavier than the ocean. A bead of sweat ran down my spine.

  “Then the ship closest to the coast disappeared under the surface, only to reappear and be plunged down again.” His eyes went distant. “Like a toy in a bathtub. But the men were screaming…” He shook his head sharply to dispel the memory. “Thought we were all done for, but an ice fog came in fast and no one could see more than a few feet either way. Not even him.”

  She’d interfered to save the ships. But why? I left Victoria to continue questioning the sailor as I considered the Winter Queen’s motivations. First her showing Cécile Angoulême’s plans and now this? It seemed almost as though she were siding with us against him, but it couldn’t be that simple. She wasn’t trying to rid the world of my brother out of the goodness of her heart – there wasn’t a benevolent bone in her body. There had to be something in it for her.