“But of course.” She straightened and turned, the misty apparition that was her gown passing through my arms, entirely intangible. She made her way to a mirror hanging on the wall, and with one careless gesture, she tore an opening in the world. “Come, come,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “And behold your enemy.”
Rising on shaking knees, I walked over and looked through the opening.
Chapter Six
Tristan
Two-dozen soldiers poured through the shattered doors, half going to the defense of the heir and his mother, the rest turning on the apparent threat.
Me.
I winced against the thunderous echoes of firing pistols, allowing the bullets to sink into a wall of magic lest they ricochet and kill someone else.
“Cease fire!” Fred’s bellow cut through the noise, and the confused soldiers slowly lowered their pistols.
“It wasn’t him.” Marie wisely took control of the moment of duplicity, Fred bowing his head over the Regent in apparent grief. “Lachance killed my husband. He was a traitor – a spy and assassin for the troll king.” Her voice shook with real emotion as she plucked at her blood soaked gown with hands stained red. “Get that wretch’s body out of my sight.”
Three of the soldiers moved to comply, but one approached me, reaching out a hand to touch one of the dozens of bullets suspended in midair. “Can all of you… trolls do this?”
“To a greater or lesser extent.” I released the magic, bits of metal clattering against the stone floor.
He lifted the hand still holding his pistol and stared at the weapon, then let his arm fall limply to his side. “How can we hope to fight against such power?”
“I’ll show you.” As unplanned as it was, this display of magic would do much to prepare the humans for what they were about to face.
Walking past him, I went to where Fred knelt next to the Regent’s body. “We need as many eyes as can be spared on the walls and scouts between here and Trollus. Choose a handful of your best to see what information they can gather. I need to know if my father is on the move.”
Fred nodded. “I’ll send riders.”
I shook my head. “Tell them to approach on foot. Stealth will be the only thing that keeps them safe – any troll worth his salt will be able to outrun a horse in the dark.”
Fred’s eyes widened, but he nodded and climbed to his feet. “I’ll give the orders.”
Catching his arm before he could leave, I murmured, “Can you do this?”
“Doesn’t look like I have much choice.” His eyes flicked to Marie, who had returned to her knees next to her dead husband, cheeks wet with tears.
I could not help but admire her quick thinking in what was undoubtedly the worst moment of her life. My father’s plan to push Aiden into murdering the Regent was good, because either way it fell saw my father gain control. The people would either accept Aiden – whose will was under my father’s control – as their leader, or they’d hang him for his actions, leaving the Isle leaderless. But in one decisive moment, Marie had sabotaged my father’s plans. The people would see the troll king as the culprit behind the murder of their beloved Regent and unify against him, rallying to our impostor Aiden. And she’d only had to murder an innocent man to accomplish it.
My eyes went to the puddle of blood left behind by Lachance’s corpse and then to the illusion of a wall, behind which the real Aiden sat slumped. No part of me believed Marie’s actions were driven by a desire to see me triumph – they’d been to save her son. To give him a chance at a future. And I’d do well to remember that.
“Send guards to find Cécile and Sabine,” I said. “Make sure they are safe.”
Cécile was at the far end of the castle, my sense of her faded, as though she were sleeping. Which was just as well – she needed the rest. But given the ruthlessness Marie had just displayed, I needed Cécile aware of the danger she was in. Marie alone knew her importance, and I would not put it past her to use Cécile against me.
I twitched, feeling something slam against the magic of the dome with enough force that I knew it had been no human. But before I could raise the alarm, I felt another series of thuds. A pattern. One I hadn’t heard since the days when I held secret meetings in the Dregs.
“Do you know where she is?” Fred’s voice pulled me back to the council chambers, and I focused on Cécile.
“Far end of the castle,” I said, then hesitated. She seemed further than that, if not by much. Which if she was sleeping, made no sense at all. “Something’s not right.” I said, then a wave of dizziness sent me staggering. A sudden wakefulness accompanied by pain and panic.
“Stones and sky, Cécile,” I swore, righting myself. “What have you done?”
Chapter Seven
Cécile