Gently, I took his left hand and pulled off the leather glove he always wore. An inky black pattern scrolled across his fingers, still beautiful in its own sad way. “Will you tell me about her?”
He nodded. “She is… was, Ana?s’s elder sister. But the only similarity between the two was their beauty. Pénélope, she was sweet and kind. Quiet. We were friends as children. I don’t remember when it was that I fell in love with her. Sometimes I think I loved her all my life.” His voice cracked and his fingers tightened over mine. “I wanted to marry her, but my father refused because she… It had recently come to light that she had the bleeding condition. Such things pass on to children.”
I sighed softly. I had not known such a thing existed until I came to Trollus, but since I had been here, two boys had died from it. Blood that would not clot – the slightest injury could be fatal.
“So we became lovers, and were so for some time. I was a fool to allow it,” Marc continued. “Perhaps if I hadn’t, she might still be alive.”
“She got pregnant, didn’t she?” I asked softly.
“Yes.” He swallowed hard. “She was happy. She believed she would survive it, but I knew.” His shoulders slumped. “I knew it would kill her.” He rose to his feet. “Let me show you something.”
He took me to a small open space surrounded by glass rosebushes. At the center stood an ornate fountain, but instead of water, a blue liquid glowed faintly within the basin.
“Liquid Shackles,” I exclaimed, hurrying over to it.
“You’ve clearly been spending too much time with Tristan,” Marc chuckled. “It’s called élixir de la Lune.”
“That’s much prettier,” I said, looking into the basin. “Where does it come from?”
“Watch.”
We waited for a long moment, then seemingly out of nowhere, a large droplet fell into the pool.
“Stones and sky,” I muttered. “Where did that come from?”
“You have to look from the right angle,” Marc said. “Like this.” Bending over, he tilted his head to look upwards. I mimicked him, gasping at what I saw. It looked like a circular window hanging in the air, but it was only visible when viewed directly. Looking through it didn’t show me Trollus – it was a window to somewhere else entirely. I could see part of a rocky cliff, a faint hint of glowing blue dampening it. As I watched, a droplet slowly formed and fell, dropping between our heads to land in the fountain.
“Where is that place?” I wondered aloud.
“The moon.”
I blinked at him.
“What you are looking at is a tear in the fabric of the world.” He straightened upright again. “This liquid is the magic that bonds the moon to the earth. We harness its power to bind the hearts of two trolls. Or a troll and a human.”
Holding out my hand, I caught the next drip as it fell and went to taste it, the memory of its sweetness vivid in my mind. Marc caught my hand. “Only once in a lifetime.” Tilting my hand, he let the drip fall into the pool.
“In the southern half of the labyrinth, there is a small opening where the sky shines through. Very few know of its existence. One night, I stole a vial of élixir de la Lune and the key to the gate from my father – the Comte de Courville has been its guardian for generations – and took Pénélope into the tunnels. She was terrified of the small spaces and afraid a sluag would come upon us, but she came anyway. We bonded under the full moon.”
“I bet you got in a lot of trouble for that.”
A hint of a smile touched his face. “Yes. But there was nothing anyone could do. The bond cannot be undone by any power in this world or the next.”
He was quiet for a long time, and I dared not break the silence.
“We were together for sixty-three glorious days. Then she miscarried. The child died. Pénélope died.”
Tears streamed down my face, but Marc’s eyes stayed dry. He had long since run out of tears for his pain, I thought. Pain I could well imagine because I’d felt it myself. “How did you survive it?”
“I didn’t want to live. I wanted to throw myself from the highest precipice. Cut my heart out with a knife. Dash my brains against the rocks. Anything. I didn’t think I could live without her.”
“So how did you?” I remembered how easily I had knelt down before the guillotine, ready to die rather than to live without Tristan. And ours was a new love, not one built over a lifetime.
“Tristan was there with me when she died. The instant her heart stopped, he tied me up with magic so I couldn’t move. I fought him with everything I had, but even at fifteen, he was one of the strongest living. In the few moments he took to sleep, it required both the twins to hold me. He kept me tied up for weeks, forcing me to eat and to drink when I tried to starve myself. When I’d finally calmed down enough, he made me swear that I would live. Said I was his best friend, and his family and he needed me alive.”
We were quiet for a long time, Marc remembering and me trying to take in what he had just told me.