“Good. Without it, we have nothing. Catherine, I assume you’ve taken precautions to ensure she can’t use magic to contact her friends?” His voice was familiar. I knew it – had heard it before. But where?
“She’s bound and gagged,” the witch replied in an emotionless voice. “The spell will keep her asleep for some time yet, given how small she is.”
“It won’t hurt her, will it?” Fred asked, and I scowled around my gag, wondering if he’d considered that before he’d used it on me. “Why are we keeping her here anyway? You said you’d help my sister, not keep her captive in some hovel in Pigalle. Why aren’t you keeping her in the castle?”
“Too many eyes, and it is not your place to question my decisions,” Lord Aiden snapped, and in the change of tone, I recognized his voice. Lord Aiden was the King’s messenger. A thousand pieces fell into place, and suddenly the King’s confidence in his plans to take the Isle all made sense. He controlled the man who would inherit the Regency. And yet that very man was double-crossing him, so it would seem his confidence was misplaced.
“You need to report to duty, de Troyes. Her friends will be looking for her, and you’re the first person they’ll go to. Make sure your story is convincing.”
“I don’t care to leave my sister tied up in a cellar.”
“If you value her life as much as you claim, you’ll do just that,” Aiden replied. “We must move quickly as it is if we are to find this witch and extricate your sister from the trolls’ power. We cannot raise their suspicion.” He didn’t know who or where Anushka was…
Fred was quiet, and I prayed that he wouldn’t leave. That he’d reconsidered what he’d done. But he didn’t. “Take care of her,” he muttered, and the door opened and slammed shut.
Disappointment carved out my guts, but I forced myself to concentrate on the conversation that ensued between Aiden and Catherine.
“Is the book what she was using to track Anushka?” he demanded once Fred was gone. “The troll king gave it to her on the beach – it was clearly of some significance.”
“It’s significant if it really is hers,” Catherine replied. “It’s certainly old enough, and the fact it’s written in a northern tongue is no small coincidence. But I won’t know until I cast the spell.”
“Do it now. We can’t waste any more time.”
“Not without my pardon.” Catherine paused. “Those have always been our terms, my lord. I want my life back. I want your mother to know the truth.”
“Leave my mother out of this. She knows nothing of the trolls, and I intend to keep it that way.”
That wasn’t true. Of a surety, Marie knew about the trolls and Anushka, but I wasn’t sure if he was unaware of that fact or was lying. I’d assumed all of the Regent’s family was in this together, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe they were as self-motivated and deceptive with each other as Tristan’s family was.
“Your mother is involved in this, whether she wills it or not. Though she must be living under another identity, Anushka is involved with the court. It was her who gave the potion to your father, and though we must needs keep her alive to keep the curse in place, that doesn’t mean she can’t be punished.”
“My mother doesn’t keep company with witches.”
“She kept company with me. She keeps company with Cécile.”
Aiden was quiet for a minute. “She’d not knowingly harbor Anushka – it’s too much of a risk. If the trolls ever discovered we were working against them… No, my mother cannot be involved. You will not speak to her of this, and neither will I.”
“You haven’t told your parents, have you?” Catherine’s voice was amused. “They have no idea how caught up in the King’s web you really are. Nothing more than the troll king’s errand boy. After generations of regents so carefully toeing the line between keeping the trolls placated and imprisoned, you hand them the keys to the realm for the sake of your greed.”
“You overstep yourself, La Voisin. The gratitude I felt for you in my youth was used up a long time ago. And besides, if my plan works, I’ll have accomplished something that no other regent has…” He broke off. “Did you hear something outside? If that’s de Troyes lurking about…”
Above, there was a flurry of footsteps and the sounds of a struggle overhead. A familiar voice shouted, “Let me go.” Sabine.
Lord Aiden was swearing as he struggled to subdue my friend, and I held my breath, afraid he’d hurt her. “Open the cellar. We’ll have to keep her here for now.”
The trapdoor flipped open, and I closed my eyes so they wouldn’t realize I was awake. Boots thudded down the ladder, then Sabine was tossed forcibly next to me. She sobbed raggedly around the gag, and I recognized a garbled version of my name. Only when the trapdoor shut again did I open my eyes and nudge her with my knees.