I screamed too, because never in my life had I heard something so loud, and I knew what it heralded. I knew what was coming.
The ground shuddered and her face jerked toward the massive peak looming above. Half of it was sliding away from the rest, breaking and crumbling, falling faster and faster, and the roar was that of the world being sundered in two.
“Anushka!” Alexis caught her up against his chest and flung a hand up. The mountain slid across the sky like a wave of rock and death, and then there was no more sun. And for some, there never would be again.
Fifty-Seven
Cécile
My heart fluttered in my chest like that of a wounded rabbit, and my hands pressed against my ears from the memory of the pain. Anushka had shown me the mountain, and I believed, as I always had, that its breaking was not her doing. I hated the feel of her mind, and wanted no more of this.
But she wasn’t finished.
I fell back under, and this time when I opened my eyes, it was dark and Anushka’s body was racked with exhaustion and pain. A candle burned in the lavishly appointed room, but she was alone. Alone and giving birth to a child. I ground my teeth against her pain, my gaze going to the ceiling with hers with every reverberating groan of shifting rocks. She pushed and screamed, and then a baby’s voice cried out. A girl, covered with blood but perfect.
“He will keep you safe,” Anushka whispered to the infant, clutching the girl against her chest. “He will change everything to keep you safe.”
And the words that went unsaid, but which I heard in her mind: I promise to protect you.
Anushka plunged me directly into the next memory. She walked through the streets of Trollus, her newborn clutched tightly against her chest. The city was not destroyed, but it had suffered much. Massive boulders rested on the crushed remains of homes, fountains and statues cracked and broken from fallen debris, and dust hanging thick in the air. Far above, the rocks shifted continually, the groaning and grinding incessant and sickening.
But worst of all were the bodies. They lay in the streets or protruded from the rubble, rot and decay caring no more if they were human or troll than the rocks had. The stench was incredible, and she knew nothing was being done to dispose of the bodies – none could be spared. She could practically taste the pestilence in the air – knew that it was claiming more victims with every passing day – but she’d brought the child with her anyway. She hadn’t dared leave her alone when there were rumors of humans scouring the streets like dogs, searching for anything, anything, they could eat.
She found Alexis standing alone in front of the palace, wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day the mountain fell. His hair was lank and unwashed, face smeared with grime. Little tracks of sweat cut through the filth, and his entire body was tense with strain. “Alexis?”
Dull eyes shifted to her. “You shouldn’t be in the streets. It isn’t safe.”
“I know.” She whispered the words, although she didn’t know entirely why. “But I wanted to tell you myself that you have a daughter.” She held the child out to him, but he turned his head away. Hurt sliced through her, and she hugged the baby tight. “What do you want to name her?”
Alexis grimaced, the first reaction I’d noted from him. “She’s half troll – she’ll name herself and tell you how she wishes to be called when she speaks. You know that.”
Anushka had known that, but also that trolls gave their children baby-names until the child was old enough to communicate its wishes. “What do you think of Lily? Or Rose?”
His lids drifted shut. “I think you should not allow yourself to become attached.”
Anushka flinched.
“Go back to your manor and lock yourself in. I’ve enough to worry about without you wandering the streets.”
She went.
I wanted no more of this. I knew what she was doing, why she was showing me these memories. Anushka wanted me to see what the trolls had done so that I would hate them like she did. So that I’d understand why she’d cursed them and turn against Tristan. Not because she had any intention of sparing my life, but because her desire to inflict as much hurt as she had suffered was insatiable. I struggled, trying to extract my mind from her clutches, but she would not let me go.
“You will see, and you will know,” she whispered, and threw me back under.